Dragons
by Empress Akitla
Summary: Danny never once imagined that he would be on a team like this, on a team where they were dragon shifters, too. Unfortunately, that fact more than doubles the problems they face. AU where dragons are 1% of the population. Each chapter is its own story. Contains whump, bromance (no slash), team bonding, humor, drama, cases, and of course, dragons. Returns in November.
1. Fact 1

**Aw yeah, I've actually got something to post. :D**

 **This will be a collection of tales and tidbits from an AU I've been toying around with since last year but hadn't actually gotten around to putting pen to paper to until a few weeks ago. Summary pretty much covers it as does this first chapter, but if you have any questions please feel free to review or PM me and I'll try to answer them so long as it doesn't involve a spoiler in a later story.**

 **Each chapter is its own story, so it's not like one continuous single minded fic. Everything just happens to take place in the same AU. I currently have a backlog of chapters and am adding more when I have time to write, so I will try to post regularly on Tuesdays and Thursdays.**

 **Hawaii Five-0, its characters, and concepts belong to CBS, Peter Lenkov, Leonard Freeman, and whoever else has a say in that. I am making zero monies from this and am merely borrowing the characters purely for fun.**

 **The concepts of these particular dragons and such do belong to me, though.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

 **Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy. :)**

* * *

 **Fact #1: Dragons get sick just like humans, though their ailments tend to be more…exotic.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 1**

Dragons came with their own unique set of problems. It was inherent, considering that you were dealing with a nearly completely separate species. It didn't help that humans outnumbered dragons by a lot. As in, dragons made up a little less than one percent of the total population at any one given time. So that meant that when one dragon started having an issue the chances of receiving the kind of help they needed were slim.

Of course, Danny had never in his wildest dreams expected to be on a taskforce where everyone on the team was a dragon or at least had dragon blood running in their veins. He hadn't known for the first while that he had been on the taskforce. Dragons typically were not forthcoming with their species and he was no different. They weren't exactly easy to nose out even to trained investigators, either.

Apparently, Steve had known right from the get go or very near to it. It kind of explained why he sought Danny out later, that and his link to his father's case. It took Danny another two weeks to figure out he was a dragon as was Kono, and as far as he knew Chin was at least fireproof which meant he had dragon mixed in his already culturally diverse bloodline.

How all this came to light was a story for another time. Right now, all Danny could do was focus on the papers on the desk in front of him and let his mind wander to the possibility that he might be sick. He was debating whether or not he wanted to get up from his chair to make a journey to the bathroom to empty his stomach. He still hadn't hurled since May of 1996, and he stubbornly refused to let a stupid stomach bug make him break that streak.

Dragons got illnesses and diseases like humans did. Caught the common cold, got the twenty-four hour flu, suffered migraines, fought cancer, some had even managed to inflict themselves with a hangover. Granted, the percentage of dragons infected with said ailments was much lower than that of the human populace, but it still happened.

And Danny wondered if he had picked up the stomach bug from Grace. She had said that it was going around at school. Luckily she hadn't caught it yet, but germs could ride home on a backpack easily.

He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Glancing across the bullpen and seeing Steve working in his office, he guiltily contemplated going over there to tell him he was taking the rest of the day off. Then again, they had finished up a case yesterday and he still had a mountain of paperwork to tend to.

Danny leaned back in his chair, wincing as his stomach roiled against the movement. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes. It was the cramping that was killing him more than anything. Sure, his joints ached and he felt like crap and he was nauseas, but the rolling cramps in his abdomen were awful. They came and went along with the nausea, starting after he had eaten this morning and persisting until now. His forehead creased as a particularly strong one made him taste bile.

His eyes snapped open.

Heat was starting to radiate from his chest and he could feel organs shifting, organs he shouldn't have in human form.

"No, no, no, no, no," he muttered. He sat forward slightly doubled over and pressed a hand to his mouth.

The heat in his chest grew in intensity. Smoke slithered up his throat and out his nostrils, bitter and acrid. A familiar burn started to make its way from the base of his ribcage to his collarbone.

Abruptly he shot his hands out in front of him, scales and claws appearing as he did so. A small amount of molten slag spewed from his mouth into his cupped hands.

Danny groaned. Sometimes being one of the few dragons that could breathe fire really, really sucked. Vomiting up the leftover remains from what was appropriately deemed his stoking chamber was never fun. Despite being mostly fireproof it still burned his mouth and tongue and throat, especially in human form.

"Why? Why me?" he questioned lowly. The molten mess in his palms started to dim now that it was in contact with the cool air in his office, but he could still feel its heat soaking through his scales.

* * *

Steve hated paperwork. Absolutely despised it. Normally he would shuffle most of it off onto Danny if he could, but recently his partner was having none of that. Now he had his fair share of papers to fill out after each case. He supposed that after running this taskforce for eight months he would have gotten used to it.

But nope.

Everyone always said he had laser focus, except when it came to paperwork. His mind was always jumping around while he filled out all the mundane details pertaining to whatever situation they had just wrapped up.

He sat back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. Maybe he could convince Danny to take a trip down to the coffee shop around the corner to get some decent Kona brew rather than the sludge that their coffeepot had been putting out the last couple of days.

He swiveled in his chair so he could glimpse into his partner's office. Danny ducked down abruptly from staring at the ceiling. Steve's brows furrowed.

"You okay there, bud?" he questioned quietly.

When he didn't reappear he pushed away from his desk and made his way out of his office, striding across the bullpen to the smaller space the detective occupied.

"Yo, Danny, you okay in here?" he rapped his knuckles on the glass door while pushing it open.

"Peachy."

Steve took two more steps so he could see around the desk. His frown deepened.

"Are you sick?" he asked.

Danny glared up at him. He was pale and sweaty, his hair falling from its neatly kept style, and his eyes were glassy. The most telling sign was the fact that he had partially shifted his hands to where they were scaled and clawed, he assumed so that what looked to be molten slag didn't burn him.

"It's like you're some kind of detective," he said. His face pinched in pain and he doubled over again.

"Woah, easy there," Steve placed a hand uncertainly on his back. "You need to go home."

Danny inhaled softly. "Well, you know Steven, I would like to but I've got my hands full of cooling slag and me pulling over on my way home to puke more of this crud up is not an option."

"I'll drive you home," Steve volunteered instantly.

This was a new one on him. Being a more amphibious type of dragon, he was unfamiliar with whatever this was. He personally hadn't been around many other dragon types, especially fire breathers. Danny was the first one he had befriended and actually gotten to know.

"Don't know if I want to deal with your driving feeling like this," Danny said.

"Danny, it's either I drive you home or you accidentally burn the office down," Steve pointed to the now mostly solid substance in his hands.

Danny didn't look at him again. Instead he kept staring at the ground, starting to crumble the slag up between his fingers. Steve didn't know how quickly that stuff cooled, but apparently quick enough that his partner wasn't too worried about letting it fall into his wastebasket. Now it just looked like ashes and bits of charcoal.

"Danno?"

"Yeah, fine," slowly he sat up from his chair, retracting the claws and scales before running a hand over his hair to put it back in place. "Just go the speed limit, huh? I don't want to leave scorch marks in the Camaro."

"We'll crack the window," Steve held the door open for him.

He kept close to his side as they navigated out of their headquarters upstairs and over to the elevators. The whole time they walked Steve wondered what exactly he would do should Danny get sick again. Something that literally looked like lava coming out of someone's mouth was sure to turn heads. So far the team had yet to have a public incident that caused the knowledge of their dragon lineages to become widespread. And they would like to keep it that way. People got too nosy when it came to dragons.

Once they were outside he felt safer. At least the chances of something catching fire were slimmer due to the fact that it had just rained. The air was fresh, a light breeze keeping the mugginess to a manageable level. Danny seemed to calm a little bit as well.

"You need anything from the store or….?" Steve asked as he took the car keys from his pocket.

Danny shook his head subtly, pressing his fingers against his mouth and nose with a grimace. Hurriedly, Steve unlocked the car and jumped in the driver's seat. He had his seatbelt already latched when his partner eased in and shut the door. Taking his hand from his face he leaned his head back and sighed heavily, smoke drifting from his mouth.

Steve started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. As he drove he shot glances his partner's way, taking note of how he stayed very still and spat out tendrils of smoke every so often.

"So, what exactly is this?" he asked after a while.

"Hmm?"

"You. What's wrong with you? Is it like a flu for fire breathers or something?"

Danny shifted uncomfortably. "Something like that."

Steve nodded, wishing for once that he would elaborate more. "What was that stuff you coughed up?"

"What is this? Twenty questions?"

"I'm just curious, man. What if I actually need to know this one day when you're in trouble?"

"With you as my partner that's a much higher probability than I care to think about."

"You signed up for the job."

"One, no I didn't. I got shanghaied into this position. Two, I was never shot at this much back home. Three, you're an animal that thinks he's invincible and I inevitably have to go in behind you to provide the backup to your boneheaded plans," Danny retorted. He drew a breath in sharply and dug the heel of his palm into his sternum.

"What's wrong? You need me to pull over?" Steve dropped whatever argument he had prepared at his partner's actions.

"No, I'm fine," Danny ground out.

Steve watched him out of the corner of his eye as he started to relax from his hunched position, but kept his hand on his chest. Seeing him like this did help him make up his mind on where he was taking him, though. He definitely wasn't letting him stay home alone in this condition.

"It was from my stoking chamber."

"What?"

"That stuff from earlier," Danny clarified. "It's molten leftovers."

"But I thought that you mainly fed your fire with wood? That looked like melted metal."

"Bits of melted down rocks, but mostly wood. It was all ashy when it cooled, remember?"

"Okay," he said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. It was in all actuality intriguing and he wanted to keep asking more questions, but could see that Danny was losing whatever energy he had found to banter with him.

"Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"You do realize that this isn't the way to my place?" Danny gestured towards the street they had turned down.

"We're not going to your place. We're going to my place," Steve answered.

"Why? Contrary to what you think, I can take care of my-"

Steve snapped his head to the side at the odd choking sound his partner made. Scales had flashed into existence again as he cupped his hands over his mouth. Smoke trailed out of his nose, smelling kind of caustic. It made Steve wince in sympathy. He couldn't even imagine what that felt like. The worst thing that happened to him was salt build up on his teeth from the steam he could make but that was a completely different story.

Apparently it had either been a false alarm or Danny had swallowed it back down, because he took his hands away from his mouth. His claws shifted back to regular fingernails and his scales back to smooth skin.

Releasing a calculated exhale, Danny pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "Wherever I can ride this out in peace."

Steve knew his place was more peaceful, anyway. It was bigger and separated from the other houses by lots of foliage. He also had a firepit out on his private beach where there was less risk of setting something ablaze. He had a spare bedroom and of course the couch if Danny wound up staying the night. He might also have a can of chicken noodle soup somewhere in his cupboards, though he was unsure if that would help this. He probably needed something closer to a fire extinguisher.

Either way, he thought as he cast a sidelong glance at his partner, he felt better knowing he would be able to keep an eye on him.

"Steve?"

"Yeah, Danny?"

"Thanks."

He smirked. "No problem, man, no problem."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Also, I wanted to let you know to feel free to make prompt or fact suggestions. Everything will be taken under advisement and may appear in later chapters.**


	2. Fact 2

**Hehehe...chapter 2. Again, feel free to ask if you've got questions or suggestions for future facts/chapters. :)**

 **Now we start getting into the dragon types in this AU. Chronologically this one happens before the previous one, but I wrote them out of order, so...**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #2: Dragons enjoy a variety of snacks.**

 **Season: Early Season 1**

Steve couldn't figure out for the life of him what Danny was eating. The first time he glimpsed him eating whatever it was had been that morning and he had assumed that the detective just hadn't eaten breakfast because when they took a drive out to interview a business owner he had nothing on him.

Then he saw him eating again after lunch. So it wasn't breakfast. He guessed that the Chinese food the team had eaten for lunch hadn't filled him up. Maybe he had a secret stash of M&Ms or sunflower seeds in his desk, although he hadn't seen any shells anywhere from seeds.

This was getting a bit ridiculous. Why he was obsessing over his partner's snacking habits, he had no clue. It could be a nervous tick, or something to keep his mind occupied while he worked like how some people needed to chew gum or fidget with something in their hands. He was still learning all the quirks of the New Jersey transplant. At least, as far as he could tell, Danny wasn't a pen clicker. No way, no how could Steve handle him if he turned into a pen clicker.

It was later that afternoon while he was still sitting in his office making various calls to other business owners that his curiosity was piqued.

Chin invited Danny to come over to the smart table to help him look at some numbers, because they had all learned very quickly that Danny was good with financial stuff and tracking numbers.

Steve stood up from his chair silently and leaned in his doorway so he could hear them.

"These numbers here? They don't make any sense," Danny was saying, pointing at a string of bank statements.

"That's what I was thinking. Too much income for that little store. Think he could be laundering money?"

"That, or he has an incredibly profitable side business, one of which is not on the up and up since there's no mention of any other income coming from a separate business."

"Could be _pakalolo_."

"Paka-what?"

"Marijuana. It's pretty easy to grow here in Hawaii."

"Ah. So maybe our guy has a green thumb."

"Very green if these numbers are anything to go by."

Well, that didn't help satisfy his curiosity. It helped their case, however, because if marijuana was involved then they knew where to start looking. He crossed his arms over his chest and stepped towards them just as Danny reached into his pocket. Steve paused mid-step.

Chin cast a glance at Danny. "Watcha got, brah?"

Danny held out his hand palm up. Steve leaned forward in an effort to see.

"A rock?"

Danny and Chin both jumped as Steve made his presence known.

"Jeez, you ninja, don't you know it's not smart to startle two armed cops?" Danny glared at him.

"I guess you need to be on your toes," Steve said. He fixed his eyes on the rock that his partner had defensively curled his fingers around. "Why do you have rocks in your pocket? Are they chocolate rocks?"

"That is a personal question," Danny said.

A personal question? How in the world was the reason a rock was in someone's pocket a personal question? "I'm your boss, and I have a right to know."

"Since when? This is not work related nor is it hindering my ability to do my job, so thus you have no right to know!" Danny's hands were moving as fast as his mouth again. That was one quirk that Steve had come to terms with almost immediately.

Chin looked between his boss and coworker. "Can I?"

Danny's lips quirked into a smirk. "Sure, Chin, thank you for asking like a civilized person."

Steve's brow lowered as Danny set the rock in Chin's open hand.

It was the size of a nickel, shaped a bit like a jellybean. It had been polished until it was glossy and smooth so that its brilliant blue colors stood out. Apparently, Chin was either fascinated by rocks or understood something that Steve didn't because he grinned as he handed it back.

"Pretty neat. Where'd you get it?" he asked.

"Grace got me a bag of them when her class took a field trip to the museum a week ago," Danny answered, a small smile appearing.

"Didn't really peg you as a rock collector," Steve laughed. It would make sense why he kept one in his pocket, though, if they were from Grace.

"I'm not," Danny deadpanned.

"You use them as fire stones, right?" Chin, definitely understanding something that Steve didn't, asked.

Danny nodded.

"Fire stones?" Steve repeated. He had heard of fire stones before. Being in the Navy he had to have a wide knowledge of a variety of things, especially all things dragon. His eyes widened. "No."

"No? No what? You goin' to tell me that I can't have a few rocks my daughter gave me here at work? Because I'll get real Jersey up in here," Danny said.

"No, if Grace gave them to you that's fine," Steve said. A smile broke across his face. "You're a fire breather."

Danny's silence confirmed it.

"Oh man, you _are_ a fire breather!" Steve's smile broadened.

"Would you keep it down, you Neanderthal," Danny motioned for him to lower his voice. "Why are you so excited?"

"Despite the volcanoes and fire dancers on the islands, fire breathers are pretty much nonexistent here," Chin explained.

"So? I thought Rambo here had been all over the world?" Danny said.

"We have to learn about all the dragon types in the Navy, but that doesn't mean that I've actually seen all of the types," Steve said.

"Easy there, Steven. Just because you have an obsession with other types of dragons doesn't mean that you can examine me like a piece of evidence or a museum exhibit, huh?" Danny held his hands up in a halting gesture.

"Okay," Steve shifted his weight on his feet. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"For this exact reason," Danny pointed his finger at the floor, as if pointing to their conversation. "People find out that you can spit some fire and then they're asking can you show me? Can you light this or that on fire? Plus, we're not exactly a plentiful kind. The last thing I need is a poacher or trapper finding out."

"No, no, I get it, man," Steve said. "It might just be handy to know in case we ever encounter a situation that calls for some heat."

Danny sighed and looked heavenward for strength. He pressed his palms together. "Please, please, don't do something stupider than usual just because you know that your backup can breathe fire, because I will leave your moronic hide in whatever hornet's nest you've run into if it was in an effort to see if I could set a building on fire, got it? Okay?"

"Danny, I'm not that stupid," Steve objected.

"You two done or do I need to get Kono to help me finish this case?" Chin interrupted.

"No, we're good, Chin," Danny turned back towards the smart table. He worked the small rock around in his fingers, drawing Steve's attention back to it.

"Just let me ask you one question," he said.

"What?"

"Have you been eating those all day?"

"Yes. Have you been stalking me? Because I'll let you know that is called workplace harassment and is frowned upon in most places."

"I'm just curious!"

Danny shared a look with Chin. Seeming to take pity on the commander, he held up the rock once again. "You see this? Fire breathers have a special organ that can melt down rocks and keep them molten for later use. I usually don't use rocks, I'm more of a wood burner. But they make good snacks and Grace sometimes finds me these nice polished ones."

"Wouldn't that be a dragon organ?" Steve asked.

"Babe, don't tell me you can't partial shift, you of all people?" Danny snaked his arms across his chest.

"Most dragons can partial shift. It's a basic requirement for the SEALs," Steve said. "I just don't know anyone that puts that much work into shifting one organ just so they can eat a few rocks."

"Well, you've never had a fire breather for a partner," Danny popped the rock into his mouth and swallowed it whole, turning his back on him and restarting his discussion with Chin about the bank statements.

Steve smirked. He didn't know Danny very well yet, but he had a feeling that he was going to enjoy having a fire breathing partner.

* * *

 **Always kind of figured that Danny was a fire breather. Feel free to review or PM!**


	3. Fact 3

**Chapter 3! There's a special surprise on the note at the end if you want to check it out. ;)**

 **Remember, feel free to drop ideas or prompts or facts or questions or whatever!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #3: Dragons are tough, not invincible.**

 **Season: Early-mid Season 1**

Danny slogged through the suffocating darkness of the tunnel, holding his gun and flashlight at the ready. He was going to kill Steve as soon as he found him. The animal had left him alone in the tunnels, the _unstable_ tunnels. During the last two hours they had been here they had already heard a few small rockslides. He had protested and dug his heels in, but somehow still managed to find himself within the old lava tubes along with the rest of the team and a few HPD officers looking for their suspect.

Once he got a breath of fresh air out of this enclosed space he was going to slug his partner in the jaw. The reserve Navy SEAL was going on strike two. Strike three and he was in for more than a right hook. He would say a baseball bat to the kneecap felt very Jersey, yet a little too mob for his taste. Maybe he would recruit Chin and Kono into helping him get back at their boss for his constant disregard of sanity.

The beam of his flashlight revealed a curve in the tube up ahead. Frowning, he turned to the right, following the black rock walls and stopped. Rocks and boulders blocked the path. The tunnel must have fallen in at some point.

He started to move to go back the way he had come when a low moan caught his attention. He swept his light back towards the rockpile. The light bounced around the nooks and crannies from top to bottom until a shape caught his eye.

Crap, it was a fully shifted dragon. A big one, at that, too.

"It's okay, I'm Five-0," he said, lowering his gun from its ready position only slightly. Dragons were people. People came in both good and bad. You never knew if you were running into a savage beast or a gentle monster. "How'd you get trapped down here?"

The dragon's eyes cracked open and squinted in the bright light. "Da…Danno?"

"Steve?" Danny lowered his gun completely and holstered it.

Back when the team had first found out about each other being dragons, it had been a surprise. Except for Steve, who apparently guessed with a degree of accuracy that the man running his father's murder investigation was of at least dragon blood. After that they had almost made it a game of guessing who was the big dragon, who was the water one, who could fly, who had venom, what colors they were, and so on.

Now Danny could say with certainty that Steve was the biggest of them, unless the thin and lanky Kono had a trick hidden up her sleeve.

"What happened to you?" he questioned as he kneeled next to the large head.

A strained exhale released a puff of steam with it. Interesting. "Roof collapsed."

"Obviously," Danny said. "But you weren't a dragon when you split off from me, like a Neanderthal. It's not even police procedure, it's common sense. You don't leave your partner by themselves. That's how everyone dies in a horror movie."

Steve nodded and closed his eyes.

"Hey, eyes open, Steven," he placed his hand on the narrow snout.

Overall, he supposed that this was what his partner would inevitably look like as a dragon. His head was shaped something closer to a throwback to dinosaur times, like that thing with the spine from the third _Jurassic Park_ , only with more pronounced brows and a nasal ridge. That and the three pairs of slender horns that were present, the bigger ones growing from his skull and the smaller two from the back of his lower jaw, gave him an appropriately dragonish and intimidating visage.

He couldn't quite place his body type. He looked like a mix between an Arboreal and an Amphibious dragon. The front foot that wasn't awkwardly tucked under his chest was partially webbed, but had the finger orientation of a climber rather than a swimmer. Fins that were common to both types were clamped down along his shoulders and neck. He was like a hodge-podge of features. His darkly mottled hide, though, was definitely Arboreal and is what kept him from seeing him right away.

"Heard it starting to give," Steve murmured, forcing his eyes open. They focused in on Danny with a disturbingly glazed and pained expression. "Thought that I could take the impact better in dragon form."

Danny glanced at the rockpile that had half of his partner buried under it. Inwardly he agreed. Human Steve would have been flattened under that much weight. Though, it didn't look like his dragon-self had taken it infinitely better. Starting at his midback, he was trapped underneath several tire sized rocks. He was going to be bruised, have cracked bones, most likely broken ones. He would also be lucky if he didn't have a shattered pelvis.

It was going to be a feat getting him free. They were going to have to dig him out without causing another collapse.

"Can you move at all?" Danny asked.

Steve shook his head. "Stuck. Don't want to make the rest of it fall down."

"Okay, okay," Danny inhaled deeply, steadying is shaking breath. He had something else to focus on other that his claustrophobia right now. "I'll go-"

"Detective Williams?"

Danny froze at the voice. Someone else was coming down the tunnel, and it wasn't one of their team. Steve twisted his head upwards warily. He made a hushing motion with his hand and stood up, making to intercept the person before they turned the corner.

He sighed in relief. "Lukela, I thought you were with Chin?"

"I was. He started to get worried when you and the Commander didn't show back up at the rendezvous point," the older man said.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time. It was twenty-five minutes past the time when they were supposed to meet back together. He hadn't even realized it.

"I know these tunnels pretty well. Used to play in them with my cousins when we were kids. I told the others I would come and find you."

Danny worried his bottom lip. He liked Duke. He was a good man. Treated everyone fairly and never harshly ribbed him when he was with HPD. Chin and Steve seemed to trust him, too. That was enough for him.

"We've got a tiny problem," he tilted his head towards the other section of the tunnel and led him back that way. "This dumb schmuck went and let a rockslide bury him."

He watched Duke's expression carefully. The older officer didn't seem all that stunned. In fact, he seemed more concerned about his partner buried under the rocks rather than who the dragon was.

"We have to dig him out of there, but…."

"You're worried about others finding out," Duke finished for him.

Danny nodded.

"One of my cousins works for Fire and Rescue. He's always been good about keeping secrets and he'll be able to help stabilize the tunnel enough to get him out," Duke said. "I'll go get Inspector Kelly and Officer Kalakaua. You stay with him."

With that he was gone. Danny crouched back by his partner, setting the flashlight on the ground between them.

Steve shifted minutely, one dark eye looking up at him. "Duke's good people."

"Yeah, well, he makes this pineapple infested hellhole a little more tolerable."

* * *

"Three cracked ribs, two broken ones, out of socket shoulder and hip, sprained wrist, hairline fracture on the fibula, a concussion, several severely bruised vertebrae, and a bruised tailbone. That about covers it, right?"

"You forgot about the stitches."

"Oh yes, how could I forget about the seventeen stitches you had to get because of that giant gash on your-"

"It was on my thigh, Danny."

"Whatever. Now, that covers it, right?"

"Yep."

They were all sitting in Steve's house the day after he had been discharged from his three day hospital stay. Their suspect was locked up, which had been a hassle in and of itself since they had been trying to deal with their injured boss at the same time as the capture. But it worked out.

Despite their urging him not to, Steve had shifted back into human form after they had mostly freed him from the rubble, which had aggravated his concussion and went ahead and popped his hip out of the socket. Duke had been a lifesaver that day, what with recruiting his cousin's help, having a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt on standby to preserve Steve's dignity, and being the one to catch their suspect.

"We need to get Duke some flowers or something," Kono said. "Or a card."

"Yeah, we need to go to Hallmark and get one that says, 'Thank you for not blowing our cover as dragons'," Danny said, spreading his hands in front of himself as he spoke as if he were reading it off of a banner.

"Brah, if you want to get him something that he'll really appreciate, get him a vinyl of the King," Chin suggested.

"Do you know any record places? Because I'm not really a record kind of guy," Danny asked.

"That's because Bon Jovi never did any records," Steve, who was propped comfortably in his chair, pointed out.

"You know what," Chin interrupted before they could be dragged off topic yet again that day. "I think I know a guy."

"Who?"

"Kamekona."

"That guy could probably get you a flight to the moon if you paid him enough," Danny said. His eyes twinkled with orneriness. They all knew that the detective wasn't as antisocial as he appeared to be. He did like some people.

"Hey, you know what they say," Kono leveled them with a serious gaze.

Chin nodded. "Never turn your back on a human ally."

"I whole heartedly agree with that, but what's the other lesson we've learned through this ordeal, Steven?" Danny turned towards his partner.

Steve looked confused. "What? Don't leave you alone in the dark without a nightlight?"

Danny rolled his eyes as the cousins snorted in laughter. "No, you putz. You're not invincible. Dragons aren't invincible. So don't be so stupid, huh? Listen to me when I tell you not to go into the sketchy tunnels and especially when I tell you not to split up, okay?"

"I make no promises," Steve said.

"Oh, come on, Boss, everyone knows that's why everyone dies in a horror movie," Kono grinned. "They split up and then get picked off one by one. The funny guy usually dies first."

"Oh!" Steve's face lit up as he looked at Danny. "That's why you didn't want me to leave you! You're the funny guy that would die first."

Danny's hands started to move through the air, getting ready to make his point about why Steve would be the first to die in a horror movie, not him.

* * *

 **Want to see artwork of Steve's dragon form? Leave a comment or PM and I'll send a link! All artwork is done by yours truly, as is the cover page for the story. I can't leave a link on the story, so I have to send it through PMs, so remember that if you're commenting as a guest.**

 **Coming this Thursday, two (yes, two) slice of life style stories. An angsty one for Danny and a morning routine one for the team. Stay tuned!**

 **Again, feel free to suggest story ideas and such.**


	4. Fact 4

**I was experimenting with a different writing style for the latter half of this short chapter. This one is a little more angsty than I usually write.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #4: Dragons have family problems, too.**

 **Season: "Heihei", Episode** **10, Season 1**

Steve's smirk fell as he heard the hurt in Danny's voice. Growing up around his dad he was familiar with the stories of wives leaving their husbands because they couldn't take the stress of their jobs, not knowing whether or not they would come home at night. At least, he was guessing that had been a big part of his partner's divorce. There may have been other factors he wasn't aware of, but it still cut him to hear how happy Danny had been versus how he was now.

"Is Rachel….?" he asked.

Danny glanced up at him. "Is Rachel what?"

"Is she, you know, a dragon too?" he asked awkwardly. Even if he was socially challenged as his partner liked to call him out on, he knew that it was a faux pas to ask that in most situations.

"No," Danny shook his head.

"Mixed blood?"

"Purebred human as far as I know. She's never told me otherwise and I've never seen anything to suggest that she's got dragon in her blood," Danny answered. He rubbed his hands together, specifically the finger on his left hand where his wedding band used to be.

Steve nodded. A dragon and a human together was definitely not unheard of, especially with the dragon population being under one percent. "So, is Grace….?"

He wasn't prepared for Danny to visibly deflate like he did.

"Yeah," Danny almost whispered. "Yeah, she is…."

* * *

 _New Jersey, 2007..._

It had been a long day at work. One of those days where he wanted nothing more than to just sit back with a beer and see if he could catch the tail end of the game.

He had barely sat on the couch and loosened his tie when his five year old came barreling around the corner. He tiredly smiled. Nothing brightened his day like seeing his daughter.

She was excited, wanted to show him something. Despite the long day and his weariness, he accepted her invitation to show him her cool new trick. She clambered up into his lap and sat on his knee. She stretched out her small arms, her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth and her face scrunching as she concentrated.

Danny's heart froze.

Tiny, shimmering auburn scales covered her arms.

He gently took her wrist in his hand and ran his fingers over her arm with trepidation. Had he fallen asleep? He hoped he had fallen asleep and was dreaming. He asked if she had shown Mommy, and she told him that she had wanted to show him first.

He called for Rachel.

Grace held up her arms for her to see when she arrived out of the kitchen.

Rachel's face said it all.

They excused their confused daughter to go play in her room so they could talk.

From then on they had fought over what they would do. What kind of life Grace would live. If she would live a normal life with a normal childhood, which Danny insisted she would. Being a mixed blood did not change that.

They argued over if she would live in fear for her life, if she would have to worry about nosy scientists, poachers, trappers, bullies, and everything else that came with the territory of having dragon blood. For all that the world had changed from worshipping dragons to fearing and slaying them to accepting them as their own culture and people, it still harbored old habits that made it something to be wary of.

Rachel was furious and terrified. She could hardly stand the thought of losing him to his job and having to raise Grace alone, but the thought of raising her as a mixed blood by herself was too much. She cried. She shouted. She tore him to pieces. She was vicious about protecting Grace and herself from his lineage.

Bit by bit, day by day, she crushed Danny. Ground his soul into the ground. Blamed him for what he could not help, for the blood that flowed through his veins, and blamed him for putting their daughter in the same position. Slowly but surely, he died a little inside.

And then she left.

* * *

 **Being a dragon or a mixed blood isn't all fun and games. Just my take on one of the major reasons Danny and Rachel split in this particular AU.**

 **Again, feel free to suggest prompts or toss out ideas! And sorry, no artwork for this one. ;)**


	5. Fact 5

**A slice of the team's lives in the morning. More of an excuse for me to try and write from each of their perspectives.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #5: Dragons have regular lives and routines.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 1**

Chin Ho Kelly enjoyed his morning coffee like most people. Sometimes he sat at a nearby diner and had a heaping plate of loco moco with his coffee, or sometimes like this morning he sat at his table in his house with a cup of coffee from his own pot with the newspaper pulled up on his tablet.

After going through the sports section, he checked out the classifieds. Parts for his bike were not easy to find and occasionally he would get lucky. He also spied out parts for a certain old Marquis, just in case. Though, the only time he had found a part for Steve's car, the simple trip to pick up said part had turned into a standoff with a chop shop they didn't realize had been operating under their noses.

Chin snorted. That figured.

Passing up the classifieds, and good grief a lot of people were selling, trading, giving, and looking for work, he moved onto local events and stories. Being a cop, he did his duty by keeping updated on the happenings around the island chain. Never knew when what appeared to be an innocuous story in the newspaper could prove to be a clue in a case. However, all the papers still seemed to be enthralled with the standoff Five-0 had been in two days ago.

As he read he scratched absent mindedly at a spot on his arm. The standoff had left them all a bit scuffed up. He briefly flexed his forearm, bringing a network of scales to the fore. A few were clearly missing and others were bent backwards. They would heal in their own time.

" _Brave Five-0 members recovering after a grenade was flung towards their defensive positions_ ," Chin read aloud the caption below a picture of his team scrabbling back behind their cars. Well, specifically the Silverado and the Traverse. He looked down at his scales again. "Newspaper got it wrong. It was _two_ grenades."

Which would be one of the only reasons he would ever pull a stunt like that in public. The tough bronze scales had helped shield him from most of the shrapnel that had been blown at them. Obviously, his scales weren't invincible, but they certainly helped.

" _Looks like it's another case closed for the Hawaiian State Taskforce_ ," he sighed and finished off his coffee, his scales retreating back into hiding. "If only it was that simple. They forgot to add the paperwork aspect."

With that he packed up his tablet, grabbed his badge and gun, locked up the house, and headed off to work.

* * *

Kono Kalakaua sat up on her surfboard, admiring the view of the ocean as golden rays of sun spilled over the island. The water burned orange and yellow at certain angles, gleaming turquoise at others. White crests on the waves shimmered like pearls as they reached foamy fingers up to the sky.

She inhaled deeply, the warm salty air instantly soothing and invigorating at the same time. Since she was by herself she allowed smooth glittering scales to appear and cover her skin. It would be a great morning to stretch out in her dragon form and gather in the heat from the sun, but she was content to just surf today.

"Danny doesn't know what he's missing," she murmured with a grin.

Occasionally she wrangled Steve into coming out early in the morning to go surfing with her and Chin went with her quite a bit, but today she was surfing solo. Not for lack of trying. She had been trying to convince Danny that she knew a peaceful beach where no one was in the dawn hours so no one would see him wipeout. He was still too chicken to ride the big waves with her.

Judging by where the light was, she probably had time for one last ride to the shore before she had to get going. She had to allot time for her to stop by her house to put her board back and to get a quick shower in before heading to work.

She patted her thigh where a brilliantly purple bruise marred her skin and was even visible beneath her delicate scales. While the small scratches from their most recent standoff had faded this one bruise was persistent. But, she would rather suffer a bruise from diving onto the concrete versus getting blasted to pieces by a pair of grenades.

Just another fun day in the life of Five-0.

She smiled as she spotted the perfect wave making its way inland. "Wouldn't trade it for the world, though."

* * *

Steve McGarrett draped the towel around his shoulders after scrubbing it through his hair. His morning swim had been just what he needed to wake up and loosen his stiff muscles. He could've gone surfing with Kono, but he felt like he needed to actually be slicing through the waves rather than riding them.

He grabbed his toothbrush from the cup he kept next to his sink. He still needed to eat breakfast and definitely get a cup of coffee from the café down the street from their offices. As he brushed he glanced at his watch, hoping that Danny wouldn't be late picking him up. With his truck in the shop for grenade damage he needed a lift to work. It stank being stranded without a vehicle.

Of course, in almost the past year of working with his team he had had to go pick Danny up when the Camaro was in the shop after a firefight more than once. It had been especially peppered with bullets and had a shattered windshield after their impromptu standoff with the chop shop a few months ago.

He spit and rinsed his brush off, running his tongue over his teeth. His molars still felt crusty. Facing the mirror he opened his mouth and tilted his head to the side. It didn't matter if he was in human form or dragon, he still always got salt build up on his teeth. He dug his finger inside, using his nail to pick at the minerals starting to cake the sides of his farthest back molars.

That's what he got for creating steam every morning when he went swimming.

It didn't help that he had boiled extra sea water to entertain Grace when Danny had brought her over for a team barbeque last night. He grinned at the memory. It had been totally worth it to see her smiling and to see her grump of a dad having a good time, too.

* * *

Danny Williams ran his fingers through his hair, letting the water soak through and wash away the shampoo. He liked this shower a lot more than the crappy one back at his tiny apartment. Managing to snag a decent hotel for his weekend with Grace had been a miracle. She was currently still asleep buried under a mountain of covers. Being from Jersey, the pair of them liked to sleep with their rooms cool, so a hotel with an actual AC unit instead of that glitchy thing Danny had was also a blessing.

He liked to take his shower before he woke Grace up, just so that there wasn't a dilemma over who got to use the bathroom first. While she was only eight, she still had to brush her teeth, wash her face, and he'd help her pull her hair back. Plus, as a general rule, you didn't leave in the morning without going pee. So he was making use of a shower that didn't turn to ice when the toilet was flushed.

"Don't have to worry about breakfast, either, seeing as our hotel so generously has it for free," he added to himself. Another blessing.

Danny turned his back to the water, examining his chest. He had picked up some bruising and some scratches from their most recent standoff. One, might he add, that his Neanderthal of a partner had started. Well, not started per se, but he had definitely helped escalate it.

"No, don't listen to the guy who's a detective with over eighty murder cases under his belt. No, don't listen to the man who's been a cop longer than both of us. No, don't listen to even the rookie who thought that your plan was cockamamie," he rattled off while performing a partial shift so he could get a look at the damage done to the plating that covered his chest in dragon form. A few nicks could be seen, but on the overall he didn't look worse for wear. The bruises were hidden under thick hide.

Relaxing and letting the scales meld back with his flesh, he finished rinsing off and twisted the faucet. He pushed the curtain back and grabbed one of the towels hanging on the nearby rack.

Wincing as he patted his chest down, he made a mental list of what he still had to get accomplished this morning. He had to get dressed, fix his hair, get Grace up and ready, make sure they both ate, get her to school, and then go pick his partner up, because for once in a blue moon it was the Silverado that had taken damage instead of the Camaro.

He smirked slightly. The insurance companies really hated them.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Remember to feel free to drop ideas or suggestions or questions or whatever. :)**

 **Next week on "Dragons", a day at the beach about gives Danny a heart attack and we take a peek at the secretive dragon market.**


	6. Fact 6

**Boom. Chapter 6. Enjoy!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #6: Beach days are fun no matter the species.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 1**

Danny sank back onto the foldout camping chair with a deep sigh. He sipped from the ice cold beer he had just pulled out of the cooler, allowing a grin to appear.

"You're lookin' chill," Chin said as he sat in the chair next to him.

"No one's shooting at me at the moment, so I feel like I can actually breathe and enjoy myself," Danny gestured to the secluded area they were in.

It was a well hidden beach that the cousins used to get up to mischief in with their friends. There was no one there on the shore with them, the ocean flowed into their private cove and was calm, and they had two coolers full of beer and a portable grill for the hamburgers that they were going to eat for dinner. This was everything that Steve had told him in order to convince him to join them instead of struggling to find something to do on his weekend with his daughter.

Of course, Steve knew what he was doing. He had told Danny all about their plans for the day while Grace was standing right there. He couldn't say no to the big brown puppy dog eyes that had been turned on him.

"My friends and I used to come down here when we were in middle school to go spear fishing," Chin reminisced. He snorted. "Remember my cousin Sid? One time while we were swimming out here I snuck up on him and grabbed his ankle. He freaked out and released his spear, barely missing our friend Akamu. So Akamu punches Sid and Sid turns to punch me, so I start swimming as fast as I can to shore and as soon as my feet hit the sand I start running."

Danny grinned. "He catch up with you?"

"We both eventually ran out of breath and got back in the water to just float around," Chin said. His face straightened suddenly. "I wasn't prepared for his revenge."

Danny scratched at his chin, wondering what this revenge was that had made him sober.

"We're walking down the road to where Akamu's brother parked his car, and out of nowhere Sid swings the fish he had speared and smacks me right in the face with it," Chin's face may have been straight, but his eyes twinkled with mirth. "I think I still occasionally snort scales out of my nose."

Danny busted up laughing. It seemed like Chin and Sid had been so close, and after the whole incident with the asset forfeiture locker it was like they barely knew each other. He stilled as he thought about his brother Matt. They had been close growing up. Now? Now, who knew where Matt was. It was like they weren't even brothers anymore. He wasn't sure what had happened, where that relationship got lost.

He heard his baby girl squeal.

"Grace! You okay, Monkey?" He shifted in his chair, ready to spring from it if he needed to.

But it seemed that his worries were unfounded.

"This is so fun, Danno! You should see this!" she called.

"Yeah, Danno! Get in the water!" Steve called as well.

Grace had a hold of Steve's hand so she didn't float away in the gently rolling waves. Normally, Danny would be scared to death letting his daughter out in the ocean with anyone, even himself. However, his Navy SEAL of a partner had promised to not let her out of his sight. Not only that, but Steve was fully shifted into his dragon form and was practically a sea monster.

"Don't you Danno me, too, Steven. I'll get in the water after I finish my beer," Danny sat back slightly, taking another swig.

Grace pointed at Steve. "Danno, you have to watch this! Do it again, Uncle Steve."

Danny had watched his partner make a cloud of steam before. Being a crossbreed he may have had the body build of an Arboreal dragon, but he had a boiling chamber that a few Amphibious dragons had. It was similar to his stoking chamber, but instead of burning wood and melting rocks, it superheated water until it evaporated into steam which he could then breathe out like smoke.

That is not what he did.

Instead, he shot a stream of water out of his mouth like a squirt gun. It had to have gone forty or fifty feet from where it started.

"Woah, babe, what are you? A super soaker or somethin'?" Danny waved a hand around as if measuring the distance he had spit.

"They call that the Archerfish trick," Chin said.

"Yeah? I call that the Mr. Jones trick," Danny shook his head. Chin raised a brow at him. He explained, "Mr. Jones lived on the corner of our block back in Jersey when I was growing up. He was from Alabama and chewed. One time Matty and I saw him spit from the end of his porch into his yard and then we had spitting contests seeing who could spit the farthest. Our mother finally beat us when she found watermelon seeds all over the living room floor and that was the end of that."

"I'll tell you something now. Never let him hit you with that, because that stings like a paintball does," Chin said with a tone that suggested he knew from experience.

"I'll keep that in mind," Danny said. Not that he would let Steve do that, because if he did he would show him something that stung.

Grace laughed as his partner hoisted her up on his shoulders. She held onto his neck as he plowed through the water, and Danny felt a bit irked watching them. He could swim. He used to play in the ocean. He just didn't have the urge to swim ever since what happened with Billy, but he was sort of jealous of the fact that Steve was so easily wowing Grace. Maybe he should get out there before his partner hogged all of his time with his daughter.

A shape just passed them caught his eye.

He frowned and asked, "Hey Chin, are there sharks here in Hawaii?"

Chin nodded. "Got some White Tips, Hammerheads, Tigers, Sandbars, Galapagos, and Grays. It's cool, brah. Most of them are pretty mild."

The shape reappeared, taller this time before diving again.

"And all of those have got the big fin on the back, right?" he started to stand up.

"Yeah, they've all got dorsal fins," Chin frowned at him. "Why?"

The shape was definitely a triangular fin cutting through the waves towards his partner and daughter.

"Steve! Steve!" Danny yelled. "Shark!"

Steve's head whipped around, but the fin had disappeared below the waves again. Grace clung to him tighter.

"Danny, I don't see a shark," Steve hollered back.

"You know sharks don't actually do the whole fin above the water thing while they're stalking," Chin said, getting to his feet, too.

Danny's eyes widened as it surfaced behind Steve's open back and this time Chin did see it. "Behind you!"

His partner glanced over his shoulder just as the creature flung itself from the water, mouth peeled open to reveal gleaming white teeth. Grace yelped, Steve cursed, Danny turned white, and Chin hooted with laughter.

"Rawr!"

"Kono!"

"Auntie Kono!"

"She got you guys good!" Chin wiped his eyes.

"You should've seen your faces!" Kono said between bouts of breathless laughter.

Danny was going to kill their rookie, fully shifted or not. She was an Amphibious dragon with all of the fins to prove it, namely the two dorsal fins on her back that looked like they belonged on a rather familiar sea creature. Sunlight caught on her amber and tawny scales, setting off the reds and coffee browns in her fins and markings.

He sat down in his chair heavily.

"You okay there?" Chin asked, getting a little more serious.

"Well, it feels like my heart just beat its way out of my ribcage and fluttered off somewhere and I may need a clean pair of pants, but sure, I'm just peachy," Danny summarized. He tipped his bottle back and drained half of it.

"I'm sorry. Kono wanted to see if she could fool you and Steve," Chin sat back down and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. Grace is safe with those two out there."

He turned his eyes towards the ocean again. Grace was cruising around on Kono's back now while Steve dove under the waves. Afternoon sunshine shimmered on the turquoise water and set ablaze the scales of the two dragons. The sound of laughter carried across to the shore.

Even though he had uprooted from his home and traveled from one end of the states to the other, even though he worried about his baby girl being on this island with its criminals and tsunamis, right at the moment he wasn't worried. His _ohana_ had become hers. Uncle Steve, Auntie Kono, Uncle Chin, and even Kamekona would never let something happen to her. She was safe around them, no matter what Rachel said.

But he was still going to kill Kono.

* * *

 **Want to see artwork of Kono's dragon form? Review or PM me for the link! I may have to email it, if the link doesn't work. Just let me know if the link I send is a bust. Also, guys, I have to send the link through the PM system, so I can't send it to guest reviewers. Sorry!**

 **Thursday on "Dragons", we take a peek at the elusive dragon market where outsiders are not welcome.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	7. Fact 7

**Hehehehe...almost forgot it was Thursday.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #7: Dragon markets draw all kinds to them. There's something alluring about them.**

 **Season: Late Season 1**

"What dumb schmuck would come in here to hide?"

"Someone that's desperate."

"Crazy. Crazy is the word you're looking for. Because any sane human being would know better than to come in here."

"I want to know how."

"How? That's really what you're concerned with? You're not concerned with, oh, I don't know, _why_ someone would be so stupid and desperate that they would sneak into a literal dragon's den?"

"This place is made specifically to keep humans out."

"For good reason! Can you imagine some bum off the street getting a hold of any of this? Maybe he crawled in through a crack in the wall or snuck in with a shipping container or something."

They were in a warehouse, but this section had a completely different ambience than any other warehouse in the district. Tendrils of smoke and incense floated in the air above their heads. The place was thick with the smell of spices, herbs, and wood. Despite how many people there were, their conversations were quiet and kept mostly to themselves, like a theater before a movie started.

Steve and Danny stood on the top step of a short stairway down into the hidden market so they could oversee the crowd. Vendors at tables and in stalls were patterned in a maze for the patrons to wander through. Somewhere down there, a human was trying to take refuge in amongst the dragons.

"Sorry, don't recognize him," one of the guards that had been standing on the other side of the curtain at the top of the stairs slinked through to their side. She handed the printed photo, because phones were not allowed in here, back to Steve. "None of the others did, either."

"We've got good intel he's in here," Steve said.

The Hawaiian woman perked a brow at him. "And you say he's human? Not even a mixed blood?"

"Full blooded New Yorker, baseball fan, diamond thief, and as far as we can tell, full blooded _Homo sapiens_ ," Danny held out a hand palm up.

She exhaled softly, her breath smelling of fresh cinnamon and cloves. "Though I have doubts that he would be in here, or could even get in, you are free to look around. Just remember, Five-0, your authority means little to these people."

"Thank you," Steve said and led the way down the stairs.

The floor had been worn smooth by the number of people walking across it, only marred by stray spices dusted here and there. This place had obviously not had to pack up and move at any point in the last few years. It looked like it had turned into a stable market, one of the few.

Danny slid behind his partner to get out of the way as a fully shifted Arboreal dragon walked by. Her smooth snake like scales glimmered with grays and desaturated purples. She lifted one gliding wing as she went by, trying to give them more room on the rather narrow path. The translucent membrane brushed over their heads and she murmured an apology before continuing on. The scent of sweet tree sap was left in her wake.

"We need to figure out how this guy got in," Steve said once Danny was at his side again.

This time Danny agreed. "If humans start sneaking in here, we're either going to have a blood bath on our hands or people are going to be afraid to come to places like this where they can be fully shifted. The plug will get pulled on this place."

Steve nodded.

Some things could only be created or obtained by dragons. The antivenom for a Serpent dragon's bite, for example, could only be concocted by those with access to the venom itself. Fire Root, Water Claw, and Devil's Tongue tended not to grow too well in human hands and seldom grew in the wild. Some of those things were vital to sick or injured dragons and could rarely be found outside of places like this. Medics that specialized in the treatment of dragons made themselves available here. A market of this size getting shut down would be devastating.

"If you were a human and you snuck into this market, what would you be looking for?" Steve asked.

"A new brain, maybe," Danny quipped. "I don't know, Steve. It's not like you can get weapons made to maim and kill dragons here, a rifle will do that just fine. There're easier ways to get a hold of a black market gun."

"Right, so why come here?" Steve stepped backwards into a stall, allowing a man with two little girls to get by.

Wary eyes watched them as they hovered in the stall for a few moments. Those in human forms that would blend in with the outside world fine studied the pair carefully. A couple of gleaming sets of eyes peered out from the darkness of the various stalls, neither judging nor staring, simply watching.

Suddenly Steve pointed. "There."

At the end of the row of vendors they were on their man darted by. Together, they followed him to the end of the row where Steve broke away to cut him off, leaving Danny to trail him. The wary eyes that had been watching them now stared at the man that didn't quite belong.

They would get answers once they had this guy in interrogation. How did he get in? Through a chink in the security? An open crate? Why did he sneak in? Was he nuts? Was he stupid? Was he brave? Was he desperate?

Or maybe…maybe was he just curious?

The fog of intoxicating smoke and incense, the aroma of exotic spices and plants, the hint of danger from glinting vials, and the fantastic sight of dragons were enough to lure even a sane man into a den of dragons.

* * *

 **The dragon market may or may not become important in later chapters. ;)**

 **Next week on "Dragons", human allies are always good to have and we check out some flashbacks.**

 **Remember to leave any thoughts or ideas or whatever in a review!**


	8. Fact 8

**I'm like, is it really Tuesday again? :D**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #8: Never turn your back on a human ally.**

 **Season: Early Season 2**

Max blinked, trying to center his focus on the task he was currently performing with the stitching equipment in his hands. It was difficult for two reasons. The first was the most obvious. The part of the anatomy he was operating on was not present on humans. He had studied it, of course, due to the fact that he had chosen Medical Examiner as a career. The vast majority of MEs had to be well learned on dragons and their half-human counterparts.

The second reason it was difficult to focus was that his patient was in an argument with his second in command. He had been politely trying to tune out the pair of them, but whatever they were arguing about was making the tail he was stitching twitch and jerk.

"Commander McGarrett, please stop moving," Max said finally.

"Sorry, Max," the Commander apologized.

"He's some kind of animal, isn't he? I mean, who gets _staked_ through the _tail_?" Detective Williams said with an added dose of vigorous hand flares.

Max ignored the comment and placed his hand steadily on the tail lying on the autopsy table before him. The Commander was perched on the edge of the table, shirtless and with his pants pulled low in the back to accommodate the extra anatomy. He looked very uncomfortable in his partially shifted form. To him it seemed like it was an awkward performance to be nearly human while maintaining a dragon tail. All it needed were a few more stitches and then he would be free to shift and they would be free to go.

It was fascinating. Though he had studied dragons and examined a few bodies both in college and on the job, he had yet to get this close to a live one. That was never minding that it was Commander McGarrett. He had not known until that afternoon that he was of dragon blood. After that point, he had been dealing with actual dragon blood from the wound on his tail.

"While I am extremely delighted in the fact that you revealed your secret to me, may I ask why you did not go to a hospital? I was under the impression that even when wounded, dragons could shift into human form and have their injuries treated that way," Max asked as he tied off the stitches.

"It's a tail," Detective Williams gestured to the length of the appendage. "Humans don't have tails."

He frowned. That was a perplexing problem.

"Don't mind him, Max. If I had shifted it would've shown up somewhere else," Commander McGarrett said.

Detective Williams laughed. "Yeah, if he had fully shifted into a human that thing would've moved and guess where it would've moved to? His tailbone. He would've had a stake right in his ass!"

The grimace that appeared on the Commander's face suggested that the detective's jesting was not too far off from the truth. His brows furrowed. When he was done closing the wound and the Commander did fully shift into human form, he would still have stitches in an unsavory place. He now understood why he had not shifted, and why in turn he had not gone to a hospital. Prying human eyes were not welcome.

"Why come to me?" he asked.

"You fixed me up before when I had been shanked," the Commander said. "And we trust you."

"I'm just letting you know, I'm not as idiotic as he is so with any luck I won't be coming in here to get stitched up anytime soon," Detective Williams waved a hand at himself.

"I certainly hope not, Detective," Max said. He ran his gloved hand down the stitches he had finished, more to feel the snake smooth scales than to check for anything he might have missed. "I want to thank you. I appreciate your confidence in my skills and integrity."

"Let's just not make a habit out of this, huh?"

In all honesty, Max did not mind. He was glad to be of service. He would seize any chance he got to observe a pair of dragons, since Detective Williams seemed to have implied he was one as well.

"Call anytime you require me or my knowledge on dragons," he said with a grin.

"Don't worry. We will. Thanks, Max."

* * *

 **Sorry for the short length, but the next one has a bit more to it. I love Max, he's such a good guy.**

 **Tune in Thursday on "Dragons" for peeks at the past when our favorite Super SEAL, Danno, Rookie, and Shotgun Kelly figured out that yes, they were of dragon blood, and yes, that is very cool.**

 **Remember to leave any comments, questions, or suggestions in a review or PM! Thanks for reading!**


	9. Fact 9

**This chapter was sparked by Sue2556. Thanks so much for reviewing!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #9: Dragons are cool.**

 **Season: Flashbacks**

"It's all about your breathing, Chin Ho, you must have a calm mind and clear thoughts."

"But I've seen you turn into a dragon when you're mad, Uncle Haku."

"Yes, but I've been doing this much longer than you have, _keiki_. It takes practice. Remember how hard you had to concentrate when you were learning to tie your shoes?"

"I guess."

"Now you can tie them without thinking. This is the same thing."

Seven year old Chin nodded. He followed his uncle's gaze out to the turquoise and cerulean waves that undulated lazily yet unyieldingly towards the shore. The black volcanic rocks the two of them sat on were warm from the morning sun, turning them into the perfect perches for them to sit cross legged on and watch the surf.

A salt laced breeze drifted upwards off the water. It was humid and comforting. Chin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Good, _keiki_. Relax," Uncle Haku said. He took a deep breath as well, his back straightening as he placed a hand on each knee. "Start small. Focus on your hands first. Imagine the scales growing, imagine the feel of the breeze against them, the warmth of the air."

Chin's forehead creased in concentration. He had accidentally caused his scales to appear before, but it was just that, an accident. He had no clue how to do it again. But his entire family was made out of mixed bloods and full bloods, so it was nothing that couldn't be repeated. He could learn. That was why he was out here with Uncle Haku.

"You're not concentrating," the older man said. There seemed to be an amused undertone to it, though.

"Sorry, Uncle," Chin said.

Calm mind, focused thoughts.

Calm mind, focused thoughts.

A gentle breeze against his scales. Warm. Salty. Humid.

Golden rays of sun washing over him. Invigorating. Refreshing. Life giving.

Calm thoughts.

Calm thoughts.

He twitched one hand as a peculiar sensation overcame it.

"Ah, that's it, you're gettin' it," Uncle Haku praised.

Chin peeked one eye open. Bronze scales overlapped each other in patterns on the backs of his hands, forming a protective barrier midway up his forearms to where their growth stunted.

Uncle Haku took him by the wrist and set his hand in his much larger palm. He hummed as he rubbed his thumb over the scales. "You've got some Drake in you, _keiki_. You know what that makes you?"

"…cool?"

Uncle Haku chuckled. "Yes, very cool. But it makes you _pale ahi_. Fireproof."

"Really?"

"Yes, but don't go and try to test that out. Your mother will have my head."

"I won't, Uncle, promise," Chin said, and he meant it. He didn't have the fascination with fire that some of his cousins did.

"Are you ready to try to cover your arms in scales?" Uncle Haku asked.

"I was born ready," Chin grinned.

"I'm sure you were, Chin Ho. I'm sure you were."

* * *

Nine year old Danny was going to throttle his brother Matt. Once he caught him, of course. And that would only be after he felt better. Or maybe he would never feel better at all ever again. Maybe he was dying. Maybe he would die before he had a chance to catch his brother. It sure felt like he was dying.

He had migrated from the couch to their small backyard in hopes of cooling off in the chilly fall breeze sweeping through the city. His chest was on fire. Like he was burning from the inside out. His mop of blond hair stuck to his skull with sweat and he whimpered in fear.

This was Matt's fault. He was sure of it. They had been playing around earlier that morning and through various events, all of which he couldn't quite remember, he had wound up swallowing a rock. Were rocks poisonous? No, that was ridiculous. But maybe that one had been. It was killing him. Death by a rock.

Danny put a small hand to his chest. Something didn't feel right. Well, okay, he hadn't been feeling right since he had eaten that rock, but now something _really_ didn't feel right. It felt like he was going to be sick.

He wasn't really aware of what was happening as he threw himself onto his hands and knees, yelling, "Mom!"

The heat that had been in his chest surged up his throat. With a yelp he felt a very odd prickling sensation cover his body and thought he felt things under his skin move. Something tickled his nose and a hot, hot mass arrived in his mouth. He spat the hot blob out into the grass. Eyes widening at the smoking grass he scrabbled away from the glowing and burning mess.

"Mom!"

"Danny, honey, what's wrong?" his mom flung open the back door. Her hands went to her mouth. "Oh my god, Danny!"

"Mom!" Danny hunched back against the side of the house where he had been sitting. He felt wrong, wrong, wrong. Everything was wrong, like he didn't belong in his own body.

"Danny, it's okay, sweetheart, it's okay," she crouched on the ground by him and put her hands on either side of his head.

"Am I…am I dying?" he asked shakily.

"Oh no, baby, you're not dying. You're fine," she pulled him close.

Danny awkwardly set his hands on the grass. Rounded claws had replaced his fingernails and burnt umber scales covered every square inch of his arms. He turned to look at himself, heavy brows raising at the flustered state the rest of his scales were in.

"I'm a pinecone with legs!" he squawked, making the scales flare out even more. "What's wrong with me?"

His mom made him tear his eyes away from himself and look her in the eyes instead. "Nothing. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, sweetie."

"Then how come you looked scared, Ma?" he asked.

"Honey, I'm not scared. I'm just…surprised," she laughed quietly. "I didn't think you were a full blooded dragon like Eddie."

"Like Dad?" Danny perked up.

"Oh Lord, just like your father," his mom smiled gently and brushed the back of her fingers down the overlapping diamond shaped scales on his neck. The soothing action made the rest of his scales start to relax and lie down flat. "Don't worry, baby, your dad will teach you how to be a dragon."

Danny glanced at the still smoldering scorched spot on the grass where the tiny molten blob had landed. "What about that?"

His mom sighed and looked heavenward. "Yes, he'll teach you how to breathe fire, too."

Danny shifted a bit, taking in the new sensations and finding that it wasn't as bad as he had first thought. He grinned a toothy grin. "Cool."

* * *

Chin groaned. Being one of the oldest out of his cousins he was often left to babysit. Sometimes he had upwards of six kids under his watch, which was a nightmare. At least this time all he had was Kono. Though, the five year old seemed to have enough energy to cover five other kids.

"Kono, what are you doing?"

"Make a biiiig splash!"

He shook his head as she leapt into the tidepool and did indeed make a big splash. They were out near the hidden cove their families liked to play in. Originally, he had planned on going swimming and maybe spear fishing but had gotten volunteered to watch his cousin so his mom and aunties could go to town without kids. One of the 'perks' of being the responsible one.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the tree that sheltered his resting place, warming the scales that he had allowed to appear on his forearms and shins. Kono had begged and begged and begged him to show her them when they had first been walking out there. With their families all being so mixed both in culture and in blood, it was no secret amongst cousins and uncles and aunties over who was scaled and who could shift fully.

"Chin, Chin! Watch _this_."

He looked up from the book perched on his knee. Kono jumped from the edge of the tidepool and did a magnificent belly flop. He winced in sympathy.

"Don't hurt yourself, cuz," he said with a small grin.

Kono popped up, just her eyes and nose sticking above the water. She blew bubbles out of her mouth as she descended like a submarine. He waited for her to surface, knowing that tiny lungs couldn't stay submerged for long. But it sure took a while.

With a sigh, he set his book aside and wandered over to the edge of the pool. Just as he was leaning over to look in, Kono erupted from underneath the surface and splashed water in his face.

"Got ya!"

Chin wiped water from his eyes. "Yes, yes you did. But now, I'm gonna get you!"

He peeled off his shirt and tossed it over by his book before jumping into the tidepool. Kono squealed in laughter and danced away from him.

"Here comes the tickle monster!"

"No, no, no! No tickle monster!"

"These fingers are gonna get you and they're gonna tickle you!"

"No!"

She dove under again, leaving Chin laughing up above. Watching his cousins may have been a nightmare sometimes, but not all the time. He waited patiently for her reappear, and then the tickle monster would get her.

A fin circled around the far side of the tidepool.

"What the…?" he frowned. Did a shark get caught in the tidepool? That would be weird, especially since Kono had been playing in it all morning and hadn't said anything about a shark. "Kono? Where'd you go, cuz?"

The fin disappeared. A shadow under the water darted towards him. He put his hands on the rough rocks on the edge, ready to scramble over if need be. The shadow surged forward and jumped up.

"Rawr!"

"Kono!"

She giggled and splashed him with a big webbed front foot.

"Kono, I didn't know you could shift yet," Chin settled back in the water. No shark scare today.

"I know! Me either," she shrugged.

"Wait, you've never shifted before?" he asked.

"Huh uh," she shook her head, the petal like fins on either side swaying with the motion.

He rubbed a hand down his face. "Can you shift back into a human?"

"Dunno," she splashed him again. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Chin rolled his eyes. Of course she would learn how to shift at a young age, and with only him around no less. But he grinned despite that. "Yeah, pretty cool, cuz, pretty cool."

* * *

Waves lapped at eleven year old Steve's ankles as he stood in their backyard on their private beach. He could still see Mary playing in the shallows, so that was good. His mom was trusting him to keep an eye on her while she got dinner out of the oven so it would be ready when their dad got home from work.

He glanced up at the cloudy sky. His mom had told them that they had better play in the water now if they wanted to because a big tropical storm was moving towards the island and they probably couldn't play near the water for the next couple of days. Personally, Steve kind of thought that the weatherman was off and the storm was actually going to hit that evening instead of the next day. Patches of heavy, dark clouds blocked out the sun periodically and there was an ever approaching solid wall of black thunderheads on the horizon.

"Mary, maybe we should go inside," he said, still eyeing the sky.

"Five more minutes, please?"

"Okay, but if it starts raining, out of the water," he glanced back down, eyes widening at the size of the wave coming in.

It broke over where Mary was splashing around, eating her up like a hungry monster. When the water receded, she was gone.

"Mary!"

He didn't even blink, he just plowed through the waves out to where she had been. Nothing. He dove further out into the water, frantically looking all over for his sister.

"Mary!"

Her little head popped up way out where neither of them could touch.

"Mary! Hold on!"

He paddled towards her. Swimming lessons at the pool were paying off. He was swimming strong for a few strokes until a wave slapped him in the face and pushed him under. The washing machine. That's what surfers called it. The spinning and tumbling around under the surface. It was all a blur of colors and textures. Follow the bubbles. They always went up.

Steve spat and choked as his head broke the surface. Disoriented for a second, he spun around in the water. His house was behind him, so that meant that Mary was in front of him to the right.

"Steve! I'm sinking!"

"Hang on!"

The turbulent waters were making it hard for him to swim despite the swimming lessons. He was bigger and older, too, and it was still difficult. No wonder his sister was sinking. Trying to keep his head above the surface so he could keep her in his sight, he kicked with all his might and powered over the incoming waves.

"Hang on, Mary, I'm coming!"

She bobbed precariously, spluttering, "Ste – I – inking - !"

Then she disappeared.

"No!" Steve yelled. Few more feet, a few more feet. "Mary, no! No, no, no, no!"

He put his face in the water and ignored the sting of the salt when he opened his eyes. Foam and bubbles and seaweed tangled up in a dizzying mixture in the water around him. He swung his head around.

There!

Briefly popping back up, he took a deep breath and dove. The ocean was being two faced. It had sunk his sister and almost him, too, but its saltiness kept him from diving fast enough to grab his sister before he had to surface again for air.

He filled his lungs as full as they could go and dove down. Bubbles streamed from his nose as he let air out to help his descent. The strong, unseen hands of the currents pulled and pushed at him like bullies on a playground. He almost had her hand. Fuzzy gray edged his vision and his lungs burned with lack of oxygen. Just a little further….

His fingers clamped around her limp wrist.

Stars danced around in a black haze when he turned to kick back to the surface. Come on, come on! His legs weren't wanting to work anymore. His free arm sluggishly reached upwards. Come on, come on, come on….

Tingling traveled over his limbs and body. Was he drowning, too? No, no, he couldn't drown. That would mean Mary would drown. With a desperate last shove he flung himself and his sister to the surface.

He gasped and choked. Lightheaded, he pulled his sister's head above the water, ignoring the fact that she seemed to have shrunk.

"Mary, come on. Mary!"

She wasn't breathing. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.

"Steve! Mary!"

Steve looked towards shore. His mother was standing in the shallows yelling. She would know what to do.

He forced his weak legs to move. This time he powered through the water faster. Was it because he was riding the waves in instead of fighting them this time? He didn't know and honestly didn't care at the moment. All he cared about was keeping Mary above the water and getting her to shore.

"Steve! Oh my god, what happened?"

She was out into the water up to her waist now. Bracing against the wave he was cruising on, she snatched Mary up in her arms and ran back to dry land. Steve's feet finally touched the sand in the shallows. His legs were wobbly and he had to crawl on all fours out of the reach of the ocean.

"Mom…?" he croaked, watching her press on his sister's chest and give her breaths through her mouth.

Mary coughed. His mom turned her onto her side as she spat water out.

"Mary, it's okay, honey, you're going to be okay," his mom held her close and finally turned to look at him. "What happened?"

"Big wave," was all he said. He struggled to sit up, finding now that he was on land he was noticing something different about the way he felt. He felt off. Something was askew.

His mom set her hand against the side of his head. "Do you know how stupid it was for you to go out there by yourself?"

He nodded slowly. "But I had to save her. She was sinking!"

"And if you hadn't have shifted when you did, you would both be gone!" her breath hitched but she firmly blinked away the tears in her eyes.

But that wasn't what caught his attention. "Shifted?"

He looked down at his arms and hands, brows furrowing. Smooth scales like those on a python covered his skin and webbing had grown between his fingers, or were they toes? He stiffened, feeling strange things on his shoulders tuck against his sides.

"I'm a shifter, too?" he whispered and gazed up at his mom. "I thought I was a mixed blood?"

"So did your father and I," she sighed, standing up with a softly sobbing Mary still cradled in her arms. "Come on, honey, I need to take Mary to the hospital and you need to wait for John to come home."

Steve found his feet, all four of them, under him and hesitantly followed her across the yard. He glanced over his shoulder at the long tail that trailed behind him. It wasn't a limb he had ever had before, but he could definitely feel it as well as he could feel his arms or legs. He glanced back at his mom with a sense of wonder.

"Mom, is Mary going to be okay?"

"She's going to be fine, I just want the doctors to make sure, okay?" she held open the back door for him to walk through, slipping slightly on the wooden floors. "John's going to be home any minute. I want you to wait here for him."

"But-"

"No buts. You can't go the hospital fully shifted," she said sternly. She slipped on her shoes and grabbed her car keys off the rack by the front door. "You wait here for your father, understand?"

He sat heavily. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good."

Once she was gone, he looked at his shoulders again. He tried flexing the fins there. Shakily, one started to spread out, being much bigger than he had anticipated. It was like a wing. Like a gliding lizard had. Or a flying fish.

Steve smirked. "Cool."

* * *

 **Thanks for the idea Sue2556!**

 **What would you guys think about a chapter or two being a crossover? I'm thinking like with White Collar or NCIS or Leverage or something. I loooove Leverage.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", Lori sort of throws a monkey wrench into team dynamics and someone takes a go at killing the team.**

 **Remember to drop your thoughts in a review or a PM! Thanks for reading!**


	10. Fact 10

**And now we're officially in season 2. Fair warning, I have a hard time writing Lori, so her appearances are minor. Also, today is a double post!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #10: Dragons are fascinating to study.**

 **Season: Early Season 2**

"Why are we here, again?"

"What?"

"No, not what. Why. Why are we here?"

"Because Lori needed to take this class."

"I understand that part. She's new to the island so she's required to take it. But why are _we_ here?"

"Because the new Governor thought that we needed a refresher, too."

"Gentlemen, if you please," Miss Kalawai'a crossed her arms over her chest and stared at them, like the first-grade teacher that had finally had enough with the class clown.

"Sorry, ma'am," Steve apologized, sighing in relief when she continued with her lecture instead of kicking him and Danny out.

Chin shot them a glance over his shoulder from the table in front of them where he was sat with their new hire, or babysitter as Steve had first said. Steve and Danny shared the third table back from the front of the room. Behind them sat two young, fresh out of the academy HPD officers while two older HPD officers sat in the table in front of Chin and Lori. The four tables to their right held officers and agents from the Big Island as well as the mainland.

Danny fidgeted in his seat. "I just took a class like this when I first moved to the island. I'm not due for a refresher for another six months."

"It'll be the first one I've taken since I got kicked off the force," Chin said.

"It's been a while for me, too," Lori had just finished scribbling a sentence on a piece of paper.

"We had to take courses every year in the Navy," Steve said.

"But I had to tell Grace that I wouldn't be able to pick her up from school and that I would have to get her from Rachel's house later," Danny tapped his pencil on the notebook in front of him.

"Sorry, bud, it's the only one they're teaching for a while," Steve shrugged. "The Governor told me it wasn't a suggestion."

"I'll tell you what I'd like to tell the Governor-"

"Since the pair of you back there seem to be so chatty, maybe you can answer the question," Miss Kalawai'a said loudly.

 _Just_ _like_ _high_ _school_ , Danny thought miserably as almost every person turned to look at him and his partner. That's what he got for not paying attention. At least Steve was in hot water with him, too.

The instructor smirked, something that looked smug and a bit cruel on the stern Hawaiian woman's face. "Would you like me to repeat the question?"

"Sorry, ma'am, I was trying to explain something to my partner here," Steve said. "You see, he has a short attention span."

Danny sat back in his chair and laughed. "Me? This animal can't go two minutes without blowing something up or thinking about blowing something up."

"The Governor warned me that his Five-0 Taskforce was going to be taking my class. He tells me that you're good people, but a little unorthodox," Miss Kalawai'a swept her eyes across the rest of the class. "What do you think? Should I repeat the question and see if this famous team is as good as they claim to be? Or maybe they won't hold up under scrutiny."

This woman was nuts. Danny wasn't sure if he admired her take no prisoners attitude or was irritated that it was being directed at them and that she had made them the center of attention. The two young rookies behind them were snickering at their discomfort while the two older officers shook their heads. The off-islanders seemed confused as to why this was so interesting to the others.

"If you had been paying attention, we were discussing why it's important to be able to differentiate between all of the dragon types. The scenario I gave was that you're in the field and your perp pulls a complete and total shift on you. Now, your intel says that he was known to be Amphibious, so you're prepared to take on an Amphibian. This is what's staring you down," Miss Kalawai'a held up a photo that appeared to have been taken from a bodycam. "What do you do?"

"First off, I wouldn't go with whatever I was going to use to fight and contain an Amphibian," Steve said. "You may have been able to herd him away from the water to prevent a quick getaway, but you need to keep him away from trees and buildings. I would personally dump whoever gave me my intel because that is an Arboreal dragon."

"Very good, Commander," Miss Kalawai'a nodded. "Most officers have a difficult time telling the two apart."

"Arboreals have gliding wings while Amphibians just have fins," Steve pointed out, sounding like the one student that had actually done the homework.

One of the rookies behind them spoke up. "Would a normal firearm be enough to stop an Amphibian or an Arboreal, or would you need something bigger and more specialized?"

"Excellent question, Lee," Miss Kalawai'a stalked towards the desk placed at the front of the room as she talked. "We will get into what weapons are effective against all of the types later this afternoon and examine some ballistics and crime scene photos, but right now we're going to start going over anatomy."

"They didn't teach anatomy at the last class I was in," Lori said quietly. "Only basic defensive maneuvers and identifying types."

"This is like high school human physiology all over again," Danny cringed.

"Couldn't cut the grades?" Steve teased and nudged his knee under the table.

"No, I did fine, thank you. The teacher was awful. I don't know how many times I had to reprint papers and rewrite homework because he 'lost' them," Danny made air quotes with his index fingers. "I almost got kicked off the baseball team because he misplaced an essay I _knew_ that I had turned in."

"Detective Williams," Miss Kalawai'a called from where she stood behind the desk.

Danny ran a hand down his face and firmly stomped on his partner's foot when he started to laugh. "Yes, Miss?"

"Can you tell me what this is?" she held up a specimen jar.

He squinted and took a risk. "A jar of pickled beets?"

A few other students chuckled and then got quiet as Miss Kalawai'a leveled them with a glare. She was definitely evoking the first-grade teacher on her last nerve now.

"Sorry for that, I couldn't help it. It reminded me of when my ma tried canning for the first time and let's just say that, yeesh, it didn't look too pretty," Danny earned a few more chuckles. "That is actually a jar of pickled tongue."

"From what? The elusive Root Vegetable dragon?" one of the agents from the right side of the room suggested. A few more laughs.

"Drake," Danny corrected. "None of the other types have that deep red color on their tongues."

Miss Kalawai'a exhaled slowly. "If you're all done joking, we can pass around these jars and get an up-close look. And before anyone asks, all of the organs and bones we will be looking at were collected from people that had donated their bodies to science."

There were ten jars in total, though it appeared that at least three of them had non-dragon tongues in them. Probably had human, dog, and lizard or creatures close to that to make a comparison with. Their instructor placed five of the jars on the front left table and the other five on the front right table.

"You ever meet any dragons in the field, Lori?" Steve asked, since now seemed to be an okay time to talk. At least, several others were talking so maybe they wouldn't get singled out again.

Lori nodded. "One of those kidnapping cases that I told you about. It went south because we didn't know that the kidnapper was a dragon. We found a location and went there to get the girl, but it went sideways as soon as we stepped foot on the property."

"What happened?" Danny asked. The three Five-0 members leaned in, eager to learn anything about this new hire that had been forced on them.

"He shifted when he saw us and the girl was killed in the crossfire. I'll never forget his face, though," Lori said. She glanced at the jars making their way towards them, brows lowering. "Or his tongue. All long and slimy and blue."

"A tree climber?" Chin asked.

"Dunno. I think the ME determined he was a crossbreed, but we couldn't locate any family to confirm or deny that," she said.

Chin handed back one of the jars after he and Lori had seen it. Danny held the jar between him and Steve. He made a face at the rounded and pale fleshy colored tongue inside. It was easily twice the size of his palm, originally having been smooth but was now wrinkled with preservatives. It had been in the mouth of an Amphibious dragon at one point.

"Is this what you meant when you've threatened to cut off my tongue?" he jabbed a finger at the jar.

"Hey, if I ever cut your tongue off I'll keep it in a jar on my desk if it'll make you happy," Steve said with a grin.

"Animal," he passed the jar to the rookies behind them.

Steve leaned in closer to him, whispering, "You think Lori's a bit creeped out by dragon tongues?"

"Steven, what did we talk about? Don't get the new girl shot, stabbed, or blown up, and definitely don't make her pull a taser on you because you thought you were being funny," Danny murmured.

"Catherine doesn't seem to mind," Steve laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair, smirking a classic McGarrett smirk at him.

Danny stuck his tongue out at him and for a brief moment Steve was sure the tip was forked and tinged with a scorched blue, but his partner turned his attention to the next jar set on their table before any prying eyes could notice.

"Admit it. This is a pretty interesting class," Steve sat forward again.

Danny snorted. "Well, any help I can get to learn how to make you listen to reason is welcome at this point."

The partners shared a look and a grin before joining in on Chin and Lori's conversation. This certainly was going to be an interesting class.

* * *

 **Well, I would like to take a dragon class. Seems like there would be some interesting things to learn, don't you think?**

 **Tune in Thursday on "Dragons", where someone takes a shot at killing Five-0, but their dragonish nature leads to complications.**

 **Remember to review or PM with suggestions, concerns, or questions!**


	11. Fact 11

**This is a bitty one. Thus the double post. So make sure you checked out chapter 10, too. ;)**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #11: Don't give dragons a reason to be suspicious.**

 **Season: Early Season 2**

That dumb coffeemaker was going to get its comeuppance one day. And that day was going to be soon. Steve scowled at the mud in his cup before dumping it down the sink. He would have to run by the coffee shop around the corner. It was shaping up to be one of those days where caffeine was needed.

"Wow, and I thought the coffeemaker at my old office was bad."

Steve glanced over his shoulder as Lori walked into the breakroom. She shook her head at the strong skunky smell that the over boiled coffee gave off as she stashed a container on one of the shelves in the fridge. Looked like she had brought in leftovers for lunch today.

"Yeah, we've been getting our coffee from other places for months," Steve slapped his palm against the cursed thing. "Never got around to replacing it."

"Another reason I drink tea," Lori said. She tapped the Yeti thermos in her hand. "Can't screw up boiling water too much."

"Well, Danny sure seems to think so," Steve said and leaned on the counter. "He thinks I can't boil water without something exploding."

"Heard that," his partner crowed, walking around the corner into the breakroom. "And that's not what I said. I said you put too much salt in your water when you're boiling it, so your pasta tastes like you cooked it in sea water. Plus, you did let it boil over last time we were all at your house."

"You said you were keeping an eye on it!" Steve said.

"No, I said that I was keeping an eye on the sausages you had on the grill, and you got distracted with wrangling Chin into helping you pull a part out of your dad's old junker down in the garage," Danny corrected.

Chin stepped in at that moment, looking between the three of them at having heard his name mentioned. "Something I should know about?"

"No, Chin, it's fine," Steve said.

"Good, because Max just called. He got the reports back on our body," Chin paused.

"And?" Danny asked.

Chin sighed. "And it turns out that the dentation didn't match that of a dog. It matched that of a smaller Drake."

"Great, I absolutely love finding and arresting dragons," Danny rolled his eyes.

"Looks like our guy's partner may have not told us everything," Chin said.

"And that's why you don't turn your back on a dragon," Lori commented under her breath.

"We got an address for this guy?" Steve asked, casting a sidelong glance at Lori.

"It's locked in and ready to go," Chin patted his pocket where his phone sat.

"Alright, let's gear up," Steve said.

Lori left first while the three of them hung back, warily looking the way she went and then back at each other.

Danny pointed a finger in her direction and then back at Steve. "Did you hear that?"

"I heard it," Steve muttered.

Chin raised a brow at them. "Doesn't sound like she's too keen on dragons."

"No," Steve's eyes narrowed. "No, it does not."

* * *

 **Sorry for the short length of this one, but I felt it didn't really need to be longer. Besides, Thursday's chapter is meatier.**

 **Stay tuned and r** **emember to review or PM with suggestions, concerns, or questions!**


	12. Fact 12

**I've been waiting to post this one. It was actually the third one I wrote, but got shifted to #12 once I fleshed this AU out more. Hehehehe...**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #12: Like all creatures, dragons can get parasites. Some are benevolent and symbiotic, others not so much.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 2**

Chin caught Kono outside by her little red Cruze before she could head into the Five-0 offices. He handed her a cup of coffee and popped open a small box, offering her first choice of the two malasadas inside it.

"You didn't have to, cuz, I've got Boss on it," Kono said, smiling as she bit into her pastry.

"I didn't do it for you. Mine got eaten, too," Chin tapped himself on the chest.

"I can't believe those two inhaled all five of those malasadas," Kono huffed. "We were gone for, what, ten or fifteen minutes talking to Nick downstairs?"

Chin nodded. "You hear how Danny claimed innocence and tossed Steve under the bus?"

"Oh, yeah, right. Danny Williams didn't eat _any_ of the malasadas," Kono rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "He had crumbs on his fingers. And Steve told me that he hadn't had breakfast since he was in that meeting with Lori and the Governor. Like that's an excuse to eat the whole box."

"Hey, cuz, look at it this way. We don't have to deal with the office coffeepot this morning. You even got Steve to commit to getting rid of it," he held up his cup in a toast, "And you convinced him to bring in more malasadas on Friday."

"Can never have too malasadas in a week," she bumped her cup against his.

After finishing off their little treats, they headed towards the building and made their way upstairs. Steve, being an early riser, was already there in his office going over the file that the cousins' relative Nick had delivered yesterday.

Chin waved at him before pulling up a chair to the smart table, setting up his tablet and booting up the system. Kono retreated to her office. She had calls to make concerning their suspect. Danny walked in five minutes later than they had, but the clocks had yet to strike the hour when they officially started work. The four of them were usually always there early. Lori had been there early during her stint as well, but apparently had been called back into a meeting with the Governor that morning.

Chin, being the tech wizard, oversaw the tracking of their suspect's electronic footprint. Kono had been assisting him yesterday but had to pick up the slack in Lori's absence. Unfortunately, even with the help he had yesterday, it seemed that the man didn't have a very big footprint no matter how hard they had looked. Barely a scuff mark if he was being honest. His meager banking history was being examined by Danny, but they all knew it most likely wouldn't lead anywhere useful. All this time they had been tracking alias after alias.

He sat back from the smart table. They didn't even know what this guy looked like. All they had was male, white, mid-thirties. That described millions of people, like his boss and second in command.

It felt like it was about time to come at this from a different angle. They had done the domestic approach, sifting through paperwork and reading reports. Now Chin was ready for a more proactive approach. What had become known as the Five-0 approach. He wondered if Steve was as antsy to get out and start busting down doors as he was.

It was at that exact moment that everything went to Hell.

First, he heard his boss yell out. Second, when he turned to look he saw him collapse behind his desk. His feet hit the floor running. He shoved open the glass door to his office, calling, "Steve! Steve, what's wrong?"

He heard him retch into the trashcan near his desk. Third, and this was when he knew something was well and truly wrong, as Steve pulled himself up from the floor he started to shift.

Chin stumbled back a few steps, trying to put some distance between himself and the dragon that was appearing beneath the shredding clothes. Steve pushed the chairs aside as everything about his anatomy changed. Bones rearranged themselves, muscles were materialized, his normal fleshy colors deepened to dark mottled teals and greens along his back and lighter shades down his chest and belly. Fins sprouted from the back of his neck and gliding wings grew from his shoulders.

"Easy, Steve, easy," Chin soothed, dodging a nimble tail as it cut through the air a little too close to his head for his liking.

"Chin," Steve, now completely in his dragon form, hissed from where he lay on the floor.

All his life Chin had grown up around the stories of dragons, around a few dragons themselves, and of course mixed bloods such as himself. He was not stunned by what dragons could do. The flying, the gliding, the swimming, the roaring and hissing, the fire breathing and water spitting, the partial shifts with scales and plates. But this, this was a new one that he hadn't encountered before.

"Steve, what's wrong?" he kneeled by the elongated head, not paying any mind to the fact that he was now dwarfed. His boss had just gone from the size of a man to over the size of an Alaskan moose in ten seconds flat. Like he had said, dragons didn't surprise him anymore.

"Dunno," Steve clenched his teeth together, several pearly fangs protruding from his upper jaw. "Bad stomach pains, sharp. Couldn't control the shift."

Chin believed him. He knew that none of them would ever purposely endanger exposing themselves or the team by turning into a great big heap of scales and claws in the middle of their offices.

"Chin? What's wrong?" Kono peered in, eyes widening at her boss.

Chin started to answer when there was another yell, like a delayed echo of Steve's. Then it hit him. Danny hadn't come running when his partner cried out. He shared a look with his cousin. She was already heading towards the other office.

"Was that Danny?" Steve lifted his head up.

"It's okay. Kono's checking on him," Chin said.

He glanced over the entirety of the Commander, seeing if he could pick out something that would help him recognize what kind of situation they were in. His dark eyes were glassy and his fins were clamped tightly against his body. That could mean anything as those two were common symptoms. His tail listlessly twitched and curled, yet another common symptom of a multitude of issues.

"Steve, does anything else hurt?" he asked, drawing the unfocused eyes back onto him.

The Commander shook his head. Chin sighed heavily. He didn't have enough information to even begin to know what to do.

Kono, on the other hand, was having an endless stream of data being flung her way. She had rushed into Danny's office after hearing him yell in pain. Unlike Steve he hadn't shifted into dragon form, at least not fully. He was bent over and had an arm wrapped around his abdomen with his teeth bared in a grimace.

"Danny! Danny, what's wrong?" Kono grabbed his shoulders and leaned so she could see his face.

"It hurts, babe," he gasped, gripping her arm with his right hand. "Like someone shoved a knife under my ribs. I can hardly breathe, can't get enough air."

And that was all Kono needed to hear to know they were in deep. If Danny was admitting to her that he was in severe pain, it must have been off the charts. He would complain to Steve but always soldiered on. He never made a big deal out of it to the rest of them, no matter if it was a gunshot wound or a bum knee. In a way she felt privileged to know they were close enough that he was being honest with her while at the same time the circumstances sucked.

With a deep breath, she ignored the claws that dug into her bicep from his grip and instead led him out of his office and into Steve's.

"Chin, he's got it, too," she said as she pushed through the glass door.

Chin cursed under his breath, swiveling on his haunches to get a look at the detective. He was panting like he couldn't drag enough air into his lungs, something that Steve wasn't doing. Different symptom?

Kono guided him to the couch, crouching in front of him once he was settled in the corner. "Danny, look at me. Look at me."

Kono's stomach twisted as he slowly lifted his head to lock eyes with her. He was pale and his even paler blue eyes were feverish and bleary. She could actually see the effort he was exerting to keep from going full dragon, if the plates that she could see appear and then fade on his throat and chest were anything to go by. Not to mention he had already lost the battle with his hands.

Kono grasped one of his hands, feeling the rough scales and minding his claws this time around. "Danny, breathe in and then out. It's okay. In and out. In. And out."

This was usually Steve's job. Ever since the sarin attack Danny had been nervous about not being able to breathe, and now Kono was thinking that he was starting to have an anxiety attack brought on by his pain. The anxiety hindered his breathing, which freaked him out, which created more anxiety, which made his breathing worse, which produced a vicious circle. Steve was the one to calm him down. How? No one knew since the two of them seemed to rile each other up, but it nearly always worked.

But since Steve was down for the count on the floor, she was stepping up to the plate.

"You're going to be okay, Danny, it's okay," she soothed.

Gradually his breathing evened out save for the odd hitch that happened whenever the pain worsened, at least that was her guess. Kono dipped her head, thanking the universe that he listened to her advice and was calming.

"Steve?" now that he was breathing easier he seemed to notice for the first time that his partner was crumpled up on the floor.

"How're you feelin'?" Steve asked quietly.

"Like I swallowed a grenade," Danny said.

Kono stood up and paced around to the arm of the couch. She gestured to their teammates silently. Chin shook his head. He didn't have a clue, either.

"What happened to you? You do realize that you're a giant lizard, right?"

"And you're in need of a manicure," Steve retorted upon seeing the claws and scales his partner was sporting.

Danny opened his mouth to reply, but only groaned instead. He grabbed at his left side again and slumped that way. Kono made to reach for him as did Steve.

"Danno!" Steve called out. He gathered his front feet under him and swayed precariously.

Chin lunged out of the way as he collapsed back to the floor. He let out something between a cry and a roar, curling up on himself. His tail swept across Chin's shoes on its way to wrap over his back. His hind feet came up near his elbows and his arms, or front legs rather, hugged his abdomen.

"Steve!" Chin glanced down at his boss and then back up at his cousin. She gave him a wide-eyed look of helplessness. "That's it. We need help."

Kono nodded. This was beyond her scope of knowledge, and she _was_ a dragon. At this moment, it was a blessing that the team were all dragonish in one way or another. Well, that wasn't completely true. Eyes trailing over her boss, who would be much harder to hide should someone walk in, she sprung up from her position by the couch and joined her cousin in the bullpen.

"We need to make sure someone doesn't just wander in here with them like this, especially Lori," she said with a small tilt of her head towards the office.

Chin pointed towards the main doors. "Go lock them up and get the side door. I'll handle Lori if she shows up."

Kono didn't need to be told to do that. She wasn't the rookie anymore, but she kept her mouth shut. Her ever Zen cousin was stressed. As she started to walk away she heard him finally have his call answered.

"Max? You need to get over here, now. We have a situation."

* * *

Chin had waited by the door for the ME to show up and let him through when he did. He double checked to make sure the lock was secure before leading him towards Steve's office where he had left Kono in charge of watching over the partners. Now he and his cousin were standing off to the side, letting Max do his thing.

"Intriguing," Max commented quietly.

"Not the word I would've used," Danny replied.

"I am sorry, Detective. I am used to examining patients that cannot hear me or respond," Max said. He put his stethoscope down and pulled the buds from his ears. "Might I ask, besides the severe stomach cramps and shifting control issues, are there any other symptoms?"

"No," Danny hissed, hunching back over now that he was done examining him.

"You have any ideas what this is, Max?" Kono asked as the ME stood up from the coffee table he was perched on.

"No, not yet," he shook his head. "I am perplexed by the fact that Commander McGarrett and Detective Williams seem to have both been affected by the same illness, yet one has lost the control to shift while the other has not."

"It's not like it's easy, babe," Danny mumbled, holding up one arm to show how the scales had spread from his hand up his forearm where heavier scutes were beginning to grow. "It's harder than trying to make that Neanderthal follow police procedure."

"Heard that," Steve muttered.

Max frowned. "I might have to do some research before finding an illness that coincides with these symptoms."

Chin sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. "What about in the meantime?"

"I suppose they will have to stay hidden here, out of sight from prying eyes," Max said.

"When is Lori supposed to be out of her meeting with the Governor?" Chin asked.

Steve let out a long breath through his nose. "Noon."

Chin glanced at his watch. It was a little bit past nine. They had roughly three hours to figure out what to do with their teammates before they really had a problem.

"Chin, I hate to ask, but could you move that trashcan closer to me?" Steve's tone implied he was ashamed to have to ask.

Chin, however, wasn't going to comment on it. He knew the Commander wasn't used to having other people do things for him and he also knew for a fact that he didn't like being vulnerable. With a nod, he stepped towards his desk where the small trashcan was hidden. Max let him walk by, a contemplative look on his face.

"Commander, are you experiencing nausea?" he asked.

"Yeah," Steve said.

"Have you already vomited today?"

"Right before I shifted."

"May I?"

It took Chin a second to realize he was pointing at the trashcan. He would rather let the ME handle it, anyway. "Be my guest."

Max pulled a pair of latex gloves out of his pocket and snapped them on. He crouched down and stared into the contents of the trashcan. Chin and Kono both grimaced. While they had worked many crime scenes with blood, guts, and everything else, if they could avoid looking at something disgusting they would.

"Oh," Max reached into the trashcan.

"Gross," Kono glanced away.

To everyone's horror Max held up what he had fished out.

Danny was the first to find his tongue. "Max, what the hell is that?"

"Gentlemen, I think I have found the cause of your sickness," Max announced, eyes transfixed on the black slimy twitching eel looking thing pinched between his fingers. "I believe you have been infected by a parasite."

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Mwahahaha...it's a two parter. But! You don't have to wait until next Tuesday. I will be posting the second half tomorrow. Yes tomorrow, Friday.**

 **Until then, thanks for reading! ;)**


	13. Fact 12 Part II

**Ahahaha, I had fun writing this chapter. Squicky creatures are totally my thing.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #12: Like all creatures, dragons can get parasites. Some are benevolent and symbiotic, others not so much.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 2**

 **Part II**

Kono had to step out of the office briefly after the reveal of the creature. Chin didn't criticize that. He almost joined her. Instead he stayed while Max did a second examination, this time using his stethoscope to listen to their stomachs and intestinal sounds.

"I was right. Both of you have the parasites," Max said, standing up from his crouched position by the commander.

Danny looked absolutely green. Chin was sure if Steve was in human form even he may have been tinged the same color. As it was, his smooth dark scales covered up for him.

"So, let me get this straight," Danny swallowed thickly and averted his eyes from the specimen jar sitting on the coffee table, "We have those monstrosities _inside of us_ , wriggling around and doing what, exactly?"

"If I were to judge by this one's size and coloration, I would say that it is part of a class commonly known as Dragon Leeches or Black Dragon Eels, though those names are misleading as they are not part of the _Annelida_ phylum nor the _Anguilliformes_ order. They feed primarily on blood," Max said.

"Wait," Steve lifted his head off the floor with a deep frown on his slender face. "Black Dragon Eels are only native to very remote parts of Asia."

"Correct. Very few cases are heard of due to their seclusion from most populated areas," Max said. "Which begs the question, how did you two come into contact with them? Even in reported cases the number of creatures found inside of one host is extremely low, whereas you both are host to upwards of-"

"No, don't," Danny held up a hand. He covered his mouth with the other. "I don't even want to know, okay?"

Chin was nearly there with him. Even he had never heard of a parasite that caused loss of the ability to control shifting. He didn't want to imagine having something that looked like a two-inch-long eel _on_ him, never mind _inside_ him.

"We were targeted."

"What?" Chin looked down at Steve.

"Black Dragon Eels are fatal to humans," Steve said. "If they didn't know about us being dragons, that would have been an easy way to get rid of us."

"What about dragons, huh? Are they fatal to them? To us?" Danny questioned.

"Not necessarily," Max said. "Though, in high concentrations they can cause permanent damage to the intestinal tract and can be fatal if not treated quickly."

"So, you know how to kill them off?" Chin asked.

"It is a simple enough remedy," Max said. His lips pulled into a firm line.

"I sense a 'but'," Chin said.

Max let out a breath slowly. "But I am afraid that the ingredients are not easy to acquire."

"What do you need?" Chin's brows furrowed.

"Garlic, onions, cayenne, vinegar, ginger root," Max listed off, and the three men in the room started to wonder if he was making a recipe to kill off the parasites or make dinner.

"Babe, Steve and Chin have got all of that in their kitchens," Danny interrupted.

Chin was slightly perturbed for a moment that Danny knew what he had in his kitchen cupboards, but elected to ignore that fact and give his attention to the more pressing matter at hand.

"And?"

"Black walnut oil, oregano oil, fresh pineapple juice, and Tropical Water Claw."

"Water Claw?" Chin echoed.

"I know where to get most of the other ingredients, but Tropical Water Claw is native to the Caribbean and has to be smuggled into Hawaii," Max explained, adding, "Typically by dragons."

"Chin," Steve glanced up at him. "You'll have to take him to the market."

Oh, boy. This was going to be an adventure that Chin did not sign up for.

* * *

Chin left Kono in charge of Steve and Danny while he and Max loaded up in his Traverse. It was a quarter to ten by time they hit the road. He had the ME compile a list on his phone of what they needed and what they already had as he drove. Apparently they needed everything except the vinegar, unless they made a detour to Chin's house where he had a few more items.

"It is probably best that we get everything fresh. The fresher the ingredients the more effective it will be," Max said after Chin had told him what he had at home.

"Okay. I know where to get the normal food stuff and the Water Claw, but not the oils," Chin said.

"Do you know the marketplace where Kamekona gets his tofu?"

"Yeah."

"If we go there we can, as you say, kill two birds with one stone by getting the garlic, onions, cayenne, ginger root, and pineapple as well as the black walnut and oregano oil."

It didn't take them long to get what they needed from that market. Chin set the paper bags with the fresh garlic, onions, and ginger root in the backseat of his car. He made sure the pineapple was safe on the floor and that the twist tie on the bag of cayenne was tight. As he sat in the driver's seat Max climbed in the passenger side with a disgruntled look.

"You alright there? Get what we need?"

"I had to haggle with the vendor over the black walnut oil," Max frowned. "He was overcharging on all of his items."

"We'll arrest him later. Right now we have to go."

* * *

Lori was getting bored with her meeting with the Governor. It wasn't just her he was meeting with, but several other agents and liaisons of his were there as well. Basically, it was an extremely long staff meeting that she, like it or not, had to attend due to the nature of her employment.

Covertly she checked her phone under the table for the time. Maybe they would end before noon and she could get out of here and back to Five-0 HQ soon.

* * *

Kono sat in the office on the couch keeping watch over her teammates. Steve had only moved to vomit again after Chin and Max left and Danny's head was resting on her leg. She brushed her fingers over his blond hair. Strangely, she felt at home this close to the pair of them. This is what she had missed most while undercover for Captain Fryer. This feeling of _ohana_. Even if the circumstances were not the best.

She glanced at the time on her phone. Ten-thirty. Her cousin and the ME had an hour and a half before Lori was out of her meeting and started asking questions.

Danny groaned.

"You okay, brah? Need something?" she asked, setting her phone face down on the arm of the couch.

"Not unless you've got a magic cure hidden away somewhere," Danny laughed lightly. Kono knew this particular laugh to be a nervous and pained one, yet it made her grin slightly just to hear it.

"Sorry, you know better. Dragons aren't magical," she said. "Unless you're talking to one of my aunties."

"Or anyone under the age of ten," Danny added. "Grace was convinced for the longest time that I had magic powers. I finally managed to get her to understand that I'm not magic around when she was six or seven."

"Yeah, she can't possibly think her dad is cool even if he's just a fire breathing dragon, a great detective, an awesome friend, and the best dad ever," Kono teased.

Danny sniffed. "Are you just buttering me up, Miss Kalakaua?"

"Nope," Kono said with a shake of her head.

Her eyes traveled down his broad-shouldered form, pausing when she came to his feet. Not long after the other two had left he had kindly asked her to help him remove his shoes. He was gradually losing the battle to stay human and didn't want to destroy a nice pair of loafers. And just like he predicted over the last half hour his feet had taken on a more dragonish form.

"You just really want us to bring in those malasadas on Friday, don't you?" Danny mumbled.

Kono smirked. Yesterday seemed like it was so normal compared to today. They picked at each other, investigated their case, had lunch together, did some more computer tracking and call making while the others went off to knock on some doors, had dinner and discussed the case. They even argued over what they should do with the old coffeepot. Her vote was to give it a Viking funeral and eat malasadas while they watched it burn.

Her smirk melted off her face. No way.

"The malasadas," she said quietly.

"Mmhmm," Danny agreed lowly. And then he stiffened. "Only Steve and I ate them yesterday."

"Which is why Chin and I aren't infected," Kono snagged her tablet off the coffee table and grabbed her phone. "We _were_ targeted, but you two _lolos_ finished off the box before anyone else got any."

"Well, I guess what they say about karma is true," Danny said. He winced, pressing his hand against his stomach again.

* * *

The market was in the warehouse district. It was not a creepy, rundown sort of place where only the lowest of the low would go. In fact, the warehouse it was in was home to a lively fish market in the front. Fresh catches from that very morning were displayed on beds of ice while tanks of crabs and lobsters were set up between the stalls.

It was when you got to the back of the fish market that it got interesting.

A large Hawaiian man guarded a door. The door was just a regular door, but the way he stood in front of it lent credence to the fact that it was much more.

The big tall man put a hand up to halt them. "Show your ID."

Chin held up his arm, bronze scales flashing to the fore. The man nodded and stepped back. He put a hand on Max's shoulder as he tried to walk by.

"ID, buddy."

"He's with me," Chin said.

"He a friend?" the man asked.

Now he had to be careful with his next words or he'd get them both in trouble. "Never turn your back on a human ally."

"Cool," the man released Max's shoulder and let him through.

Chin sighed a breath of relief as the ME followed him into the room beyond the door. This is why he normally didn't bring humans to the market. It was risky at the best of times.

"If I may ask, what was that about?" Max seemed bewildered yet not thoroughly shaken.

"He was checking to see if you had me here against my will," he answered softly, mindful that keener ears could hear them now. "I had to say the right thing or he would've killed you."

Max's eyes widened. Now he looked shaken. They paused as they came to a curtain with another two guards, again two Hawaiians though one was a woman this time, posted on either side of it. The woman gestured to a set of small lockers.

"Any unnatural weapons with you today, gentlemen?" she asked.

Chin unclipped his gun and badge, carefully setting both on the desk to her side. He put his cellphone next to them and signed his name on the clipboard.

"Your friend will need to hand in his cell phone as well," she pointed at Max.

"He doesn't like phones," Chin pushed the clipboard towards her and took the numbered tab she gave him. As she put his stuff away he turned to Max. "Don't touch anything and don't stare."

With that the pair went through the curtain.

* * *

Lori shot another glance at her phone. Eleven o'clock. This meeting had to be coming to a close soon. It felt like the Governor was winding down and that he may dismiss them early.

"Anytime, now," she murmured.

* * *

"Damn, Chin's not answering his phone," Kono said after a third attempt.

"If they're in the market he doesn't have his phone on him," Steve said. He shifted uncomfortably, making use of the pillow that Kono had dug out of Danny's office. It beat lying his head on the floor.

She growled. "I forgot that they don't allow phones. I thought that maybe he would remember who packaged the malasadas when he got them yesterday."

"I thought that you called Liliha to see if they would send their security footage over?" Danny asked, now settled in the corner of the couch again to give Kono room to move about.

"I did and it's taking them forever," she ran her fingers through her hair.

Steve bolted upright and leaned over the trashcan. Kono and Danny both looked away in disgust. Danny rubbed his hands down his face, mindful of his claws so he didn't scratch himself. More dragonish features were appearing. Up to his elbows was covered in scales and backward facing scutes on the underside of his arms, his feet were the same and it was progressing up his shins, and his teeth were changing. His lower canines were slowly becoming sharper and more curved.

Soon Kono was going to be sitting with two fully shifted dragons. Which, if she was honest, would be kind of neat because none of them, not even Steve, had seen what Danny the dragon looked like.

Steve flopped back on the floor.

"You okay?" Danny asked.

He simply shook his head and shut his eyes again.

* * *

Chin kept a sharp eye out for any Caribbean based stalls. There were plenty of Asian and Indian vendors as well as a few Australians. Polynesians made up the majority, though. Max stuck close to his side as they navigated the marketplace. His eyes were alight at the clandestine and almost dreamlike atmosphere. It was smoky, smelling of incense and burning wood in some areas while others smelled of exotic fruits and spices. However, Chin could smell toxins and venoms and see suspicious looks out of the corner of his eye.

"How are we going to locate someone from the Caribbean?" Max asked.

"Most of these vendors put a map above their stalls indicating where their inventory is from," he glanced up at the one they were standing next to. The sign had a great swath of the Outback colored in on the shape of Australia.

"Or, ya know, ya could jus' ask," the dragon, not the man, lurking inside the stall said.

He had a heavier build with thick spiny scales armoring his back and tail, probably some kind of Drake was Chin's guess. His dirt red color and accent confirmed that he was most likely from the Outback himself.

"Sorry, brah, we weren't meaning to invade your space," Chin said calmly. The last thing they needed was to start something with one of these guys. "We're just looking for some Water Claw."

"The tropical variety, preferably," Max added.

The dragon snorted. "Five more stalls down to your left. Can't miss her."

Chin dipped his head at him and hurried away. Being a mixed blood in amongst all these full bloods made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was almost like when he would walk back into HPD after he had resigned because of the IA witch hunt. He used to, and still did, belong there. Here, all dragons were welcome, but it was almost like a few of them could tell he wasn't full blooded. Like they knew that he was not one of them, not completely.

"Lieutenant, here," Max split off from him.

The Outback guy was right. Couldn't miss her. Everything about her stall was bright and colorful, right down to the foods and fabrics she was selling. The woman herself was a cheerful thing. Her skin was as dark as a polished tiger's eye stone and her eyes were even prettier. She had her brown hair braided in many tiny strands and piled up on top of her head in a messy bun.

"Ay! Wot can I do for ya?" she greeted. "Wotever ya can t'ink of, I've got it."

"We are looking for Tropical Water Claw," Max was, to Chin's surprise, confident and not too put off by the fact he was a human surrounded by wary dragons.

"Really?" she reached under a display of peppers and pulled out an ornate box. "Wot do ya want it for?"

Max glanced back at Chin.

"He's a bit of a collector. It's for his exotic plant display," he said and Max nodded along.

She lowered her brows at them. "Do ya boys t'ink I'm dense? Wot do ya _really_ want it for?"

Chin sighed and leaned in closer. "Sorry, we just don't want it spread around. We're dabbling with a parasite cure."

"Ya don't say!" she opened the box and held it out to Max. Muddy green stalks with ruffled brown leaves were organized tightly inside of it. "I jus' had someone t'at was lookin' for some Claw for t'e exact same reason."

The alarm bells went off in his head.

"How long ago was that?" he asked.

"'Bout five minutes," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "Why?"

He knew that his position in Five-0 meant little here. It was almost like its own nation with its own laws, so he didn't bother telling her when it wouldn't help. He instead hoped she was willing to answer. "Did you sell him any Water Claw?"

"Why?"

"Did you?"

"Why?"

"We need to know."

" _Why?_ "

"Two of our friends were deliberately infected with Black Dragon Eels. He may be a suspect," Max spilled out.

The color drained from her face. "Are ya serious?"

Chin nodded. "That person, did you sell him any of the Water Claw?"

She shook her head. "He gave me t'e heebie-jeebies. Now I know why."

"What did he look like?"

"White boy wit' brown hair," she gestured to about Chin's height. "Not too tall, 'bout in his t'irties. He was a mixed blood. Took off mad after I wouldn't sell him any Claw."

This was too much to be a coincidence. Male, white, mid-thirties. "Which way?"

"Back t'e way ya came," she said.

"Thank you. How much?" he reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

She waved him off. "Catch t'at bastard and we'll call it even."

Chin quirked a smile at her and took off running with Max tagging behind him. They weaved through vendors and patrons, getting a few dirty looks as they went. He couldn't tackle him in here without causing a scene that was liable to get nasty. Two mixed bloods and a human stirring up trouble in a dragon market? He would be shunned and hated even more, possibly killed. Max…well, angry dragons didn't take to humans inside their den too kindly.

He spotted the man up ahead, stumbling along. He slowed his speed.

"Okay, we're going to follow him out and then I'll arrest him. Try and stay out of the line of fire," Chin said.

This man, if he was the subject of their current case, wasn't known to be violent. Instead he was a master of draining business accounts and disappearing into thin air. However, nonviolent people could become so if they were desperate enough. And he was thinking that this guy was on that downward slope.

The man continued stumbling through the curtain between the two guards. Chin handed his numbered tab to Max and followed the guy out of the first door they had come in. The smell of fish smacked him in the face, such a different odor than what had been present in the hidden market. The man had disappeared. He scanned the normal everyday fish vendors carefully, getting more frustrated with every second that ticked by until he finally saw the man slipping away between two lobster tanks.

"Five-0!"

Now the man was running. He was guilty of something for sure. He booked it after him, jumping a cooler behind one stall and nearly losing his footing due to a handful of stray ice cubes on the cement floor.

The man slammed into a door and peeled outside. Chin pulled the same move and busted out into the bright late morning sunshine. For someone that was stumbling around a minute ago this guy could cover some ground fast. Luckily his head popped up just on the other side of one of the parked cars.

"Freeze!"

The guy was still hauling butt despite his haggard state. But Chin was catching up. They raced along the tin siding of one of the warehouses, the man sucking air in greedily. With a burst of speed, the man turned the corner and –

Clotheslined himself on a large beefy arm.

It was the first Hawaiian guard he and Max had run into. The guard straightened his jacket and reached down, scooping the guy up by his armpits. With a less than gentle shove he pressed him against the wall and turned his intense gaze on Chin.

"Five-0, huh?" he looked him up and down. "Not bad."

"Thanks, bruddah," Chin said and slapped a pair of cuffs on the winded man.

"I got told to tell you that you're even now," he gave him a firm pat on the back. He tightened his grip on his shoulder and leaned in closer. "But let me tell you, if you Five-0 guys bring anymore crazy stuff into the marketplace, you're goin' to get banned."

Chin nodded. "Understood."

The guard stalked back towards the warehouse and he steered the man back towards his car where he hoped Max was waiting for him. A glimpse of his watch told him that it was eleven-thirty. They had half an hour before they had more trouble.

"You've gotta help me. I need something from inside there," the man jerked his head at the warehouse.

"Water Claw?"

The man was stunned.

"I guess you should've thought of that before draining all of those business accounts and then trying to kill off Five-0 once we got close to you," Chin said.

"You don't have any proof of that! Of any of that!" the man yelled. Sweat matted his hair to his scalp and soaked through his white dress shirt, making him look like a miserable mess. "I _need_ that Water Claw right now! You don't understand!"

Chin ignored him. Max was standing by the Traverse, holding his gun, badge, and phone. He unlocked the car, instructing the ME to move their supplies up front before he stuffed their suspect into the backseat.

"Officer Kalakaua has been trying to call you," Max held his phone out to him once he was buckled in.

Three missed calls from Kono and two texts. What he read made him grin in grim satisfaction.

"Remember how you said we had no proof?" he glanced in his rearview mirror.

The man sweated even harder.

* * *

"His name is Jerome Caine. He's wanted for the same scheme in Texas, California, and Oregon. This is the first time he's attempted to commit murder," Chin said. He was leaning on the doorframe back at the office. They had stashed Caine in one of their interrogation rooms downstairs where he could wait until Max had finished stewing his cure.

"And it totally backfired on him," Kono added.

"What, the part where the dumb schmuck didn't count on us being dragons?" Danny asked tiredly.

"That, and _he_ got infected with them, too," Chin said. "Apparently, they're very easy to contract if you're not careful, according to Max."

"Were there any traces left at Liliha?" Steve asked.

"I called Duke and got him to shut it down. They have CSU sweeping the place, but so far there's been no reported deaths or other incidents. Max thinks that Caine became infected with only one or two of them when he was initially handling them two weeks ago while he was smuggling them in. After that he was very meticulous with them," Chin said.

"Good," Steve sighed and pushed himself upright, using the wall as a support to lean against. "How did he know we were onto him?'

"That third alias we dug through triggered an alert. He was already working at Liliha, planning on draining their accounts when he started watching us. Since we go in there so often it was only a matter of time, so he says," Kono said. "He said it was just perfect when he answered the phone and it was Chin calling in an order of five malasadas. Five members of Five-0, five malasadas. Thought he was taking care of his problem. Didn't even have to deliver the parasites himself."

"The other thing he didn't count on was you two inhaling all five of them," Chin gave them a pointed look.

Danny held his hands up. "Oh no, I've learned my lesson, thank you. I won't touch another pastry until I know they've been portioned out equally and Steve's been the official taste tester."

Steve chuckled. "Danny Williams never touch another pastry?"

"Didn't say never, babe," Danny corrected. "I just won't be the _first_ to eat another pastry."

Steve shook his head and looked to the cousins. "What time is it?"

Kono held up her phone. "Noon."

"What's our cover story with Lori?" Danny asked. "She's not a bad detective, she'll figure out something fishy is going on if we lie to her."

"Then we don't," Steve said. From his new position he could actually be a bit taller than eye level with his team, which Kono could tell made him feel more comfortable. Floor level was a vulnerable position and their SEAL didn't do vulnerable.

"Sure, let's tell the woman that's a spy for the Governor and isn't very fond or trusting of dragons that the entire team is made up of, you guessed it, dragons," Danny suggested. He bit his lip and grimaced while scrunching up into a tighter ball on the couch. Kono set her hand on his back gently.

"No, not that," Steve narrowed his eyes at his partner but concern was the foremost emotion on his face. "We tell her that Caine tried to poison us and accidentally dosed himself, too. Chin caught up with him, but Danny and I are taking the rest of today and tomorrow off for medical leave."

"Honesty is the best policy?" Kono asked with a raised brow.

"Just leave out the part about the Black Dragon Eels and the market," Steve said. "Kono, you think you can intercept her in the parking lot?"

Just as Kono stood up to get on that, Max walked in with two coffee mugs. Despite the fact they were coffee mugs, whatever was in them was definitely not coffee or anything related to any beverage that any sane person would drink.

"Woah!" Kono tucked her face into the crook of her elbow.

Danny and Chin pulled their shirt collars up over their noses while Steve only pulled a sour face.

"You done playing mad scientist, brah?" Chin asked.

"Judging by the pungent odor that this has started to produce, yes, I believe it is done," after years as an ME, Max's sense of smell must have been skewed since he barely batted an eye. He gave one of the mugs to Danny and the other to Steve, where it looked like a toy in his webbed hand.

"Do we have to drink this?" Danny asked, his tone of voice almost pleading for there to be another way.

"All of the ingredients are used to treat normal human intestinal parasites. Combined, they will be strong enough to eat through the slime layer of the Black Dragon Eels and render them harmless and able to be digested. They will cease to produce the toxin that is affecting your shifting abilities and you should regain control after a few hours," Max explained, earning a variety of grossed out faces. "It is either that, or you allow the parasites to continue to feed to the point where they can breed."

"First option," Steve downed the mug in one gulp. Despite his tough façade his face contorted and his eyes watered. "Holy-"

"That is potent," Danny had only taken a closer whiff of it and tears were already streaming down his face. Steeling himself he did what his partner did and drank it as quickly as possible, almost choking on it.

"You sure that won't just burn a hole through them?" Kono asked. She could taste the tanginess just from the air.

"That is what the Tropical Water Claw is for. It stabilizes the concoction and reinforces the stomach lining, helping to repair the damage the parasites inflicted," Max said.

Kono glanced down at her phone as it buzzed. "Lori's outside. What the hell am I supposed to tell her about the smell?"

"You'll make up something. Now go. I'll take Max downstairs so we can get Caine some of this stuff," Chin said. He looked at his boss and second in command. "You guys goin' to be okay for a few minutes?"

"Don't worry, guys. Besides, no one is going to want to come close to us," Danny waved him off.

"No one will set foot within a mile of us," Steve agreed.

"I think you mean no one will set foot within the same zip code as us," Danny corrected.

Kono and Chin grinned as the partners shared a laugh before the cousins along with Max ducked out. Kono texted as she walked, updating Lori on the situation while the other two made their way out of the side door. She relocked the doors once she was out and jogged down the stairs, finally catching up with Lori outside of the building.

"Oh, man," Lori brushed a hand in front of her nose. "What's that smell?"

Kono picked at her tank top and grimaced. "Ugh, I'm going to have to burn these clothes."

"What happened?" Lori asked, keeping her distance.

"Our suspect in the drained business accounts case tried to kill us off," she said.

"What? How? An exploding pizza stuffed in a spicy pickle jar?" Lori wiped her eyes.

Kono rather liked the image that description put in her mind, but shook her head. "He tried to poison us with some malasadas Chin got yesterday and when that didn't do the trick he…rolled a tear gas grenade into the office."

"How'd he get into the building with a grenade?" Lori glanced up at the second floor where their headquarters was.

"We're still working on it," she fibbed. She prayed that this wouldn't turn into a disaster if the wrong thread was tugged on. "The offices are shut down for now until it airs out. Caine's plan may not have been foolproof, but he did manage to get Danny and Steve pretty good."

Lori's eyes widened slightly. "Are they okay?"

"Yeah, they'll be fine. Gotta take today and tomorrow off, doctor's orders. I don't think they'll touch anything sweet for a while, though," she said, hiding a small grin. It wasn't funny. But it was very karmic. "On the bright side, he accidentally poisoned himself and gave us enough of an advantage to catch him."

"So what's with Caine? He in lockup already?" Lori asked.

"Chin's got him down in interrogation. He copped to everything in record time once we dangled the antidote in front of him," she said.

"Wish I would've been there," Lori said.

"Hey, if you had been there you would have to be filling out a mountain of paperwork like we're all having to," Kono pointed out. "And you would smell like I do."

Lori sighed. It didn't matter where you came from, paperwork always sucked and not having to do any was great. Plus, Kono really did smell rank.

* * *

Max left most of his brew in the refrigerator in Five-0's break room. He had divided it up evenly between two containers with sticky notes placed on them indicating that one was Commander McGarrett's and the other Detective Williams'. Prior to storing it, he had spoken to them about how it would be advisable to drink one cup a day for the next three days just to ensure that all the parasites were gone. Their perpetrator, Caine, would most likely be fine since he had also received a cup of the brew. His case was nothing compared to what he had tried to do.

It was because of that man that Max decided to hold some of the brew back for himself, just in case anything like this ever occurred again. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"Hey, Max."

"Yes, Commander?" he turned on his haunches where he was crouched down by his med bag. He inclined his head upwards in order to look the Commander in the eyes.

"Remember, it's Steve," he said. He inhaled deeply and added, "I just wanted to thank you."

"Yeah, thanks, babe," the detective echoed. Max rotated to face him, subtly studying his partially shifted form with an awe that never seemed to cease. "If we didn't have you around, me and this animal would've both died a horror movie worthy death."

"I would say it has been my pleasure, but I take no pleasure in seeing my friends in pain," Max said. He stood up with his med bag and glanced between the two partners. "I must confess that I am still rather touched that you both trust me enough to reveal your secret to me."

"Hey, we're _ohana_ ," the Commander said as if that covered everything.

And, in a way, Max supposed it did.

* * *

 **Please don't try to mix all those ingredients together in order to kill a parasite. It may very well be the end of you or your sense of smell. Plus, tropical water claw doesn't exist. Disclaimer concluded.**

 **Well, there was my two parter. I need to get my butt in gear and get some more chapters done. My posting is catching up too fast. XD**

 **Next week on "Dragons", the rescue mission in North Korea plays out a little differently and Steve refuses to go to the dentist. Normal posting next week.**

 **Thanks for reading! And remember to leaves suggestions, questions, or comments in a review or PM!**


	14. Fact 13

**There are actually a few like this that I want to write, you know, changing scenes to accommodate the team's dragon nature.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #13: Dragons are always good to have on your team.**

 **Season: "Ki'ilua", Episode 10, Season 2**

They were in untamed territory. Wild and dangerous. Off the grid. If they screwed up and got caught that was it. North Korea was not somewhere you wanted to have a screw up without a solid exit strategy. And Chin was pretty sure they had been flying by the seat of their pants ever since they got that call from Jenna and then since they had found her body at the bunker.

Joe and the members from SEAL Team 9 didn't look out of place here in the dense jungle, but the Five-0 taskforce sure as hell did. They were cops, not trained ninjas stalking through the jungle. Chin felt a bit better that Kono was relatively safer feeding them information from their basecamp. Lori was off redirecting the convoy in the helicopter. Him and Danny, though, were out of their element with these SEALs on hostile turf.

He glanced Danny's way. He was the one to have gotten the call from Jenna, and he had been taking charge for the most part. The man was a lot tougher than Chin thought people gave him credit for. But the whole helicopter ride out he had caught him sneaking rocks into his mouth. He was gearing up for the worst.

"Brah, you okay?" he asked quietly.

"Sure, sure, you know, just another day in the life of Five-0," Danny said. There were a few jittery undertones present in his voice, something Chin had learned were only present when he was nervous. Danny confirmed his suspicions when he continued, "We're just all going to get killed here and no one will know where to look for the bodies. This is such a stupid plan."

Chin placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's the _only_ plan."

Danny inhaled deeply. "I know."

"You boys ready?" Joe asked as he doubled back towards them.

"Are you seriously asking that and expecting an answer other than 'No, I just wanna go home'?" Danny questioned, but as he was speaking he was shrugging off his gun.

He handed the weapon to Chin and walked off at an angle into the jungle, pulling his shirt over his head as he went. Joe shook his head as the jungle swallowed him. This was the plan. The plan that everyone was sure was probably Plan Z, as Danny had said earlier. Chin wouldn't admit it out loud, but he wasn't sure how well this plan was going to work out either. Or if it did work, what kind of shape they were going to find Steve in.

"Steve sure knows how to pick his partners," Joe said to him as they went about setting up the rest of their plan.

"Danny's a person you want to have at your back," Chin said.

A tree snapped in the distance the way Danny had disappeared to. Chin shared a look with Joe. It was now or never. They were sprinting towards show time.

* * *

Steve was in and out of it. The drugs that he had been given were screwing with his shifting abilities. His mental faculties weren't affected, thankfully, but he was unable to get his body to obey any command to shift. He was shift locked. He had heard of being shift locked, but it was nearly impossible to get a hold of the drugs needed to interrupt the signals that fired between the nerves that controlled shifting.

Then again, Wo Fat was one of those people that could get a hold of anything, it seemed.

The truck jerked to a halt.

He numbly rested his head against the back panel. Had they been driving that long? Maybe his mind had been affected. The bunker must have been a long ways behind them. They were passed the point of no return. He was trapped. Trapped with Wo Fat. He was convinced he knew something. He would torture him until he spoke or until he died. Those were the two options that his life had been reduced to.

There was gunfire.

An opposing group? Rebels or guerillas or something?

Screams. Men were screaming. They were running, too. He saw one flash by through the crack in the canvas cover on the back of the truck.

Smoke. He could smell smoke. It was oil and gas and rubber burning. And there was a woody smell, too. Trees were on fire. Was the truck on fire? He could barely get his legs to move. Death by inferno? Man, he was jumping from one hell into another.

A shadow blocked the light coming under the canvas. Wo Fat was coming to get him. He was going to move him so he could continue grilling him over Shelburne. Couldn't have him burn to death, no, then he wouldn't get answers that Steve didn't have. Saved from one hell only to suffer another?

The canvas flexed and thick, curved claws that vaguely looked familiar lifted the curtain. Blinding sunlight struck him in the face and he had to squint, seeing only a silhouette. Broad shoulders and a feathery crest of spines is all he could see. Then the beast yelled.

"Chin! I've got him over here!"

He knew that voice. "Danny?"

"Steve, it's okay, we've got you," that was definitely his partner's voice.

The large silhouette vanished and there was a shuffling outside of the truck along with a few more voices. He frowned. Time was really blurring now. He wasn't sure if it was seconds or minutes later when someone jumped into the back of the truck with him.

"Steve?" it was Danny. He was all disheveled and looked like he had just thrown on his pants and shirt, which may have been what had happened, and his hair was a disaster. Mud splattered his arms and hands, too.

"Danny," he said his name more to reassure himself that his partner was actually there. Actually there in North Korea. To save him.

"Yep. Come on, Super SEAL, we've gotta go," Danny pulled a mean looking knife from his belt and sawed through the ropes encircling his wrists. He sheathed the blade once it had cut through and slid one of his arms over his shoulders.

"You're all smoky," he commented upon getting a good whiff of his partner. That was the wood smoke he had been smelling. Danny absolutely reeked of it.

"Yeah, well, I guess you walked into the right hornet's nest," Danny said.

Chin and Joe and SEAL Team 9 were waiting on the outside of the truck. They had all come to save him. As he was helped down he glanced around at the havoc that had been wreaked. They had done a number on the convoy.

They stalked away from the truck. Hanging his head, he looked at the ground. Dragon footprints were imprinted all over the mud and he could see scorch marks where blasts of fire had just missed fleeing men.

He groaned.

"You okay, Steve?" Danny asked.

"It took me getting kidnapped in North Korea for you to finally shift," he muttered. "And I was too damned out of it to get a good look at you."

* * *

 **Almost saw Danny. So close, so close...his reveal chapter is already written and edited and locked in for early November. Next week, though, is going to be pretty Danny centered.**

 **Thursday on "Dragons", Steve refuses to go to the dentist and his day rapidly goes downhill from there.**

 **Also, please feel free to suggest ideas or facts or even types of characters you'd like to see! Like, don't feel shy. I don't bite. ;)**


	15. Fact 14

**IMOPRTANT ANNOUNCEMENT at the end of the chapter.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #14: Even dragons refuse to go to the dentist.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 2**

Steve winced. The throbbing in his jaw was getting worse as the day went on. He had taken mild painkillers for his cracked ribs and was hoping those would help with his toothache, but it seemed like that wasn't going to happen. It didn't help that he had been up late the night before with all of his friends at the Hilton for Danny's special dinner.

Speaking of, his partner waltzed into his office, looking rather serene. It was an unusual emotion to see on him in the morning. Or the afternoon. Or the evening. Or at all.

"Why're you so happy?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Why? Can't I be happy without you questioning it?" Danny's face may have changed into a look he wore when ranting, but there was still an underlying smile.

"No, man, it's good to see you happy. It's just that you're not usually smiling, especially when you're walking into my office," he laced his fingers behind his head.

"Well, I'll have you know that Gabby and I had a very pleasant evening after we left the Hilton last night," Danny replied, the grin reappearing.

"Good for you, buddy," he smirked, but then made a face as that motion put pressure on his aching teeth.

"You all good there? Kind of got Aneurism Face on," Danny flicked his wrist at him.

Steve frowned and sat forward. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and activated the flashlight app. "Want to look in my mouth and tell me if you can see something wrong with these molars up here?"

"Not really," Danny stood up anyway and accepted his partner's phone as it was pressed into his palm. "You do know that there is not a DDS in front of my name, correct?"

"Danny, just look."

"Okay, okay. No need to get testy. Open wide."

Steve cracked his mouth open as far as it would go. He pointed at the teeth giving him the problem. Danny pushed his head back with his fingertips on his forehead, tilting his head to the side to try and see in.

"Those two back up on the right side?"

"Uh huh."

"They look infected, babe. You should probably visit a dentist."

"So…should I come back later or…?"

They both turned to look at Kono standing in the doorway. Steve snapped his mouth shut, regretting the action as it jarred the two teeth.

"No, Super SEAL here just needs to take a trip to the dentist," Danny handed his phone back to him and wiped his hands off on his pants, even though he hadn't stuck his fingers near his partner's mouth.

Steve grumbled and stood up. "Not goin' to the dentist."

"Don't tell me that you, the man that has faced down terrorists and murderers and drug runners, are afraid of the dentist," Danny waved a hand at him as they stalked into the bullpen where the smart table was.

"I'm not afraid of the dentist. I just don't like or need them," he clarified.

"You know, if you need to take off, we can handle this," Kono said and circled her finger at the three cops standing around the table.

"No, I'm fine," Steve shot a glare at his partner for ratting him out. "Now, what do we have so far?"

* * *

The painkillers did zip for him. The throbbing that had originally just been in his jaw was now traveling up his face and giving him a killer headache. Even talking was sending those two teeth into vicious spurts of pain. And he was stuck in a car with his overly talkative partner.

"Hey, you don't look so good."

He glanced over at said talkative partner and raised his brows.

"Yeah, see, you're usually the quiet, stoic one, but this is unusual. You at least will give me the standard, 'I'm fine because I'm Super SEAL' spiel. So that is how I know that you need to go to a dentist."

Carefully and deliberately, he resisted gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw like normal when Danny was getting under his skin. Instead his frown deepened and his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Okay, fine. But don't tell me I didn't warn you when they're having to clean infection out of your brain because you just wouldn't go to the dentist to get your teeth fixed."

"I'm fine," he hissed.

* * *

He was so not fine. After leaving the witness's house on their way to their suspect's house, he felt a new symptom. Fever. Oh yeah, he could barely even make faces at his partner now. Just touching his teeth with his tongue made his stomach roll.

If he could survive through the day, he was going, not to the dentist, but home that evening. He had a date with a pair of pliers.

* * *

White hot pain shot through his mouth and face as he yelled at their suspect to freeze. Of course, with them being Five-0 and suspects being as they were, the man didn't freeze and ran the other direction. Danny tailed him while Steve ran around the house to cut him off.

This time he did look for oncoming cars before catching up with their guy in the street outside of the house, tripping him with a well-placed foot.

"Mason Heathcliff, you're under arrest!"

Mason swung his leg out and caught him behind the knees. Steve stumbled but stayed upright as the man bounded to his feet. He blocked one punch headed his way with his forearm. He grabbed the guy's wrist and bent his arm away from him. Mason went with the motion and pivoted, swinging his foot up in an arc and smacking him directly in the cheek.

That white hot pain he'd had earlier turned into the sun, blinding and all consuming with its heat. He went down like a sack of potatoes. His vision blurred and his eyes watered. Drool dripped from his busted lip. Crap, that had been a hard kick.

"Steve! Steve! Hey, hey, get down on the ground, now."

Was Danny talking to him? He was already on the ground. He could see the asphalt in high definition only an inch away from his nose. Slowly, he gathered his bearings and pushed himself upright into a sitting position.

"Easy, Steve, easy. This nut job nailed you pretty good."

He shook off the hand on his shoulder and got his feet under him. The ground swayed a little once he was standing, but stabilized after a few seconds. He blinked and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. Swallowing thickly, he tasted blood and was sure that something else had gone down with it.

"You're bleeding pretty bad there."

Steve touched his lip. It was slick with blood. But, as his senses came back around, there was one thing that was decidedly blissfully missing. He glanced at the ground. With a smirk he bent over and plucked what he was looking for off the street.

"What? What happened? That kick knock part of your brain out of your ear?"

He held up his hand. "Mason here just fixed my problem."

"You know that when you lose an adult tooth, it doesn't grow back in, right?" Danny said. "So I'd say that Mason here just caused you a different problem. Open up."

Steve did as he was told, pleased that there was only slight throbbing in his jaw now.

"Those two teeth got knocked out. Where's the other one? You know they can save the root if you can get to a dentist in time."

Ah, he did know what happened to the other one. "I think I swallowed it."

"Oy," Danny looked heavenward.

"It's okay, bud," he gave Mason a smile with bloody teeth that made the man cringe. "Let's book 'im."

* * *

He had cleaned up in the HPD bathroom while his partner booked Mason. Well, he had rinsed his mouth out and gotten the blood off his face and hands at least. They were driving back to the Palace, and he was much more relaxed with his grip on the wheel now.

"Seriously, you animal, why are you not worried about that gaping hole in your mouth?" Danny turned towards him slightly.

"I told you, it's fine, I'm fine, can you just give it a rest?" Steve looked over at him. His right eye was starting to swell from the kick, but he would take a black eye over a toothache any day.

"No, I can't just give it a rest. I'm mildly concerned about why you're not concerned at all. In my experience, having an infected tooth removed does not get rid of the infection nor does it make you suddenly happy."

"In your experience?"

"Yes, in my experience. Why were those two teeth giving you a problem in the first place, huh? I thought a Navy guy like you would actually floss."

"I do floss," he exhaled softly. "They were the two teeth that got chipped and cracked when I got hit by that car a week ago."

"With the Russian diplomat?"

"That's the only diplomat I recall being involved."

"Why didn't you get them checked out while you were at the hospital?"

"Because they didn't hurt."

"Well, frostbite doesn't hurt after a while but that doesn't mean you shouldn't get it checked out."

He pulled into Danny's usual parking space outside of the Palace and threw the car into park. He cut the engine. Before his partner could get out, he turned in his seat.

"Here, look," Steve hooked his finger under his lip and opened his mouth again.

Danny tilted his head, leaning in close. "What the hell? Don't tell me those are teeth poking through your gums."

He nodded and closed his mouth. He ran his tongue over the small white bumps peeking through where his other two molars had been. The pain had faded into almost nonexistence.

"You are an animal! Like a shark or somethin', growing teeth whenever the old ones get knocked out," Danny shook his head as he got out of the car. He glanced at him over the top. "That's why you didn't want to go to the dentist."

"I just figured I was gonna pull them out with a pair of pliers when I got home tonight, but then Mason took care of that for me," he shrugged and followed his partner towards the building.

"You should've just asked me."

"What? You wanted to pull my teeth out with pliers?"

"No, but if I had known that punching you in the face would've fixed it, I would have done that much earlier."

Steve snorted. "I'm sure you would've, buddy, I'm sure you would've."

 **In loving memory of Charlie.**

* * *

 **Shout out to cargumentluv, who had to put down her horse this morning. Lots of love, dear, and to happy memories of our furry friends.**

 **Now, on a more upbeat note, next week on "Dragons" will be a special event. I will be posting chapters Monday-Friday, one each day. So stay tuned!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	16. Fact 15

**And so it begins. Might I suggest listening to Cryo Chamber's "Cthulhu" (preferably through headphones) this week while reading the chapters.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

 **A smidge of grotesque imagery in this one.**

* * *

 **Fact #15: Dragons can get more creative when it comes to murder.**

 **Season: Early Season 3**

Duke had never seen anything like this, and he had been a cop for a long time.

His HPD officers kept their distance. Several of them glanced his way as if waiting to see what he would do. This had to be a crime scene. It had to be homicide, unless spontaneous combustion was really a thing. But it was no crime scene or homicide that they were trained for.

"What's your call, Sergeant?" one of his more senior officers asked.

Duke pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "We need Five-0."

* * *

"Are we sure this isn't a joke?" Danny questioned.

"Smells real," Kono crinkled her nose at the repugnant odor of singed flesh and the harsh underlying scent of chemicals.

The four of them had arrived not long after getting the call from Duke. Once on scene they could see why he had wanted to fork the case over onto them. It was just too bizarre.

The scene itself was something out of a movie. A swirl pattern scorched the ground around two corpses. Two corpses that were, notably, mostly upright. One of the bodies crawled across the ground like it had tripped and the other had been paused mid-step in its run. Most of the flesh was burned away or was so charred it was flaking off, revealing blackened bones underneath.

"It's not even Halloween yet," Chin muttered.

"It's close enough for the creepers to be out, apparently," Danny said as he paced around the statuesque bodies.

"Duke, when did you guys get the call?" Chin asked, turning to the ring of HPD officers that were still too wary to come too close to the center of the scorch mark.

"About an hour ago. Dispatch said they received a call from a passerby about smoke and then HFD called us in," Duke said.

Danny glanced around at the ground. "There's no water or fire-retardant residue."

"HFD said there wasn't any fire when they arrived, just the bodies," Duke shook his head. "Figured this kind of crime is more up Five-0's alley."

"Thanks, Duke," Chin faced the bodies again.

"What're you lookin' at, Boss?" Kono crouched next to Steve at the base of the standing body.

Steve pointed at the ground beneath it. "This is why they're still upright."

"What is that? Tar?" Kono looked closer at the black sludge that splashed halfway up the shin bones.

"I think it's asphalt," Steve tapped the surface of the disused parking lot they were in. "It's like they sunk in it."

"What's so hot that it could melt the asphalt?" Chin asked. He crouched by the second body, checking to see if it was stuck in the same hardened black sludge the other one was. It was.

Kono looked up at Danny.

"Why are you looking at me? I didn't work arson," he said.

"But you're a…you know, kind of fiery," she said.

"Just because I am fiery doesn't mean I understand all of the finer mechanics of fire and of burning bodies," Danny gestured to the aforementioned bodies. "I do know, though, that it is very hard to burn a body quickly and I do know for a fact that I could not nor would I ever do something like this."

"I do know something that burns this hot, but it's manmade," Steve sat back on his haunches. "Thermite."

"Thermite?" Kono asked.

"You can make it out of rust, aluminum foil, and a sparkler," Steve said. He frowned as he swept his eyes around the entirety of the scene again. "It can melt through asphalt, but this is too big of a burn area for it to be just thermite."

"So are we thinking two different sources of ignition or types of fire or something?" Kono, still the rookie in many ways, had never really worked on a fire case before other than the photographer that was burned in his trailer. This felt way more intense than that one.

"I don't know," Steve shook his head.

"You don't know? Is Super SEAL saying that he's not sure about something? Chin, give me your notebook. I need to write this down," Danny held out his hand.

"No, something just doesn't feel right about this," Steve stood up and narrowed his eyes at the bodies.

"Something doesn't feel right? We have two bodies that sunk into the ground and then were barbequed. This entire thing screams not right," Danny waved a hand around, encompassing the cordoned off area.

"I want samples from the bodies and the ground taken to Fong," Steve said. "Now."

* * *

"You were right," Fong said.

The samples had taken somewhere near three hours to run, which was no small feat. Of course, if Five-0 requested something get done quickly, whatever they wanted done typically got pushed to the front of the line. That was one of the perks of having immunity and means as well as working high priority cases. Or just really out there ones.

"It _was_ thermite," Steve shot a glance at his partner. "I was right."

Danny rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Did you find anything else or was the thermite the only thing he was right about?"

"Oh no, I found something else," Fong said mysteriously. He tapped the keyboard on his computer, bringing up a string of chemicals. "And this is definitely interesting."

Steve read the screen intently while Danny only squinted at it. Chemistry had never been his strong suit. He had squeaked by in high school and excelled much more in psychology.

"In layman's terms?" he flicked his wrist towards the screen.

"We found traces of different chemicals on the bodies," Fong pointed at two of the compounds. "These two coincide with the iron oxide and aluminum found in homemade thermite. They were located mainly near the feet and legs of the victims and on the arms of the one that was lower to the ground."

"Like someone had tossed it at their feet like it was a firecracker," Danny said. That was a situation he was familiar with. His brother had been banned from fireworks for a reason.

"Right. Only there was one problem. There weren't any traces of magnesium, which is what you use to ignite thermite," Fong moved his finger down to two more compounds. "We did, however, find two other chemicals that could have acted as the ignition source."

"What?"

"Glycerin and potassium permanganate."

Steve swore. Danny concurred with the feeling, because although chemistry was not his forte he was a police officer with over eighty-seven homicides under his belt and had taken a dragon refresher class just a year ago.

"I'm assuming that you guys know what those two chemicals do together," Fong said.

"Yeah," Danny inhaled deeply and looked at his partner then back at Fong. "It means we might have a Wyvern torching people."

* * *

 **It's the beginning of the end!**

 **Well, it's the beginning of a five part mini-arc, at least. Watch for tomorrow's chapter.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	17. Fact 16

**Might I suggest listening (preferably via headphones) to Cryo Chamber's "Cthulhu" while reading the chapters this week? Especially this chapter.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

 **Creepy, unsettling feelings and violence in this chapter.**

* * *

 **Fact #16: Not all dragons are fireproof.**

 **Season: Early Season 3**

Third time was the charm. They had found the iron oxide and potassium permanganate in this warehouse. It was well hidden, but it was there. A partially made thermite bomb had been sitting on the table along with supplies for at least half a dozen more, but no one was there to claim responsibility. Their guy must have spooked.

Steve canted his gun around the edge of one of the metal shipping containers. He could hear the cousins on the floor above them. The old metal catwalks creaked with the weight. Wind from the incoming storm picked at the tin panels that formed the walls. It was a quiet place, but felt alive with a life of its own. Like it had a ghost inhabiting it. This place had been shut down years ago, the owners leaving everything in it to rot and gather dust. It created a perfect hideout.

Danny was somewhere on the other side of the ground floor searching amongst the scattered containers and disused equipment. Steve had been thoroughly reminded by him and the cousins of the horror movie rule, but it wasn't a huge place. Sure, it was big, but they were within earshot of each other. Plus, four of them split up could cover it a lot faster than if they were in pairs.

Eerie shadows clung to the sides of the containers and in the nooks and crannies of things pressed against the walls. They shifted and moved with every sweep of the flashlight. Besides a few shop lights being ran by a small generator by the thermite workstation, the warehouse was cast into not a complete darkness but a heavy one. They had to rely on their flashlights and the light creeping from the windows perched high off the floor. That natural light was waning as clouds moved in the choke out the sun.

Steve peered down a narrow alley created by one of the containers running parallel to the wall. The hairs on the back of his neck raised. It was a bottleneck and he was no fool. He stepped back and took a right instead. There was more space this way and he had cover to duck behind.

A spot at the end of the line of containers looked different. It was tucked into the corner of the walls. A small battery power lantern lit it up and it beckoned to him. He followed along one side of the containers, wary of booby traps and carefully watching the flickering shadows that surrounded him.

There was a mattress on the floor in the corner with blankets neatly stretched across it. This section of the warehouse looked lived in. It had that touch of life about it. As he got closer he could read the spines on the books that were stacked flush with the wall. Various chemistry textbooks. History books. A few fiction novels. The next to grab his attention was a map of Oahu spread out next to the mattress like someone had been reading it recently. Very recently.

He crouched by it, picking out several locations that had been circled in red. Precise handwriting scrawled next to four of them and the rest were left blank. On a hunch Steve set the backs of his fingers on the edge of the mattress. It was still warm. They had just missed him.

Standing and turning on his heel, an icy chill prickled down his back. The hairs on his arms joined the ones on his neck in standing upright. His instincts were rarely wrong. He was being watched.

He barely caught sight of one shadow that didn't belong on top of one of the containers, but by then, even he knew it was too late.

* * *

Danny about jumped out of his skin at the sudden cacophony of sound that shredded the silence. His stomach twisted into a knot and his heart was in his throat before he even started running full speed for his partner.

"Steve!"

His brain worked to dissect the sounds. Clanging and banging against the metal wall and containers. Gunshots. Screaming. Primal, guttural screaming.

"Steve!"

He slammed into a container after taking a corner too fast. This whole damn warehouse was a maze and it was taking him too long. Left turn, right turn, left turn. After what was an eternity of running to him, he peeled around by the wall where a makeshift bed sat.

"Ste-"

His veins froze over.

"Steve!"

Without thinking he leapt in front of his partner, forgoing his weapon and throwing his arms in front of himself with his forearms together. Tongues of fire impacted with the hardened scales. He held his ground, waiting for the torrent to cease. When it did he dropped to the concrete floor and snatched up his gun. He fired two shots at the malevolent shadow hanging from the catwalk.

It hissed, but didn't flee. It took a shotgun blast to send it scrambling.

"Chin, Kono, don't get too close to him!" Danny yelled.

The screeching of metal on metal banged above their heads.

"He's taking off through a loose panel in the roof," he heard Chin relay. "I'll get Duke to get a chopper in the air and keep an eye on the skies."

Danny swallowed nervously. He lowered to his knees next to his partner.

"Steve, can you hear me?" his hands hovered indecisively above him. He didn't want to touch him.

Steve moaned and twitched, the last of his smooth scales retreating back in hiding. He sounded mostly unconscious. That fact was probably a blessing. Those guttural screams had been coming from him. Had to have. Smoke rose in a sluggish fashion from where their suspect had initially missed, and from where he hadn't. The smell of burned flesh made him gag. With a shaking hand, he dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911.

* * *

"How is he? Is he going to be okay?" Danny questioned.

The two EMTs wheeling the gurney into the ER at King's glanced at each other. He had been questioning them the whole ambulance ride over and their responses had been the same. Silence.

"What the hell's the matter with you?! Will you just tell me _something_?!" he snapped at them.

"You'll hear from the doctor," one of them said.

A nurse held him back as they disappeared through doors he wasn't allowed to follow them through. He dug his fingers through his hair and paced away. His partner had started to go into shock in the ambulance. The burns weren't all over, thank goodness. They were mainly on his right shoulder and that side of his chest, but they were bad enough. Charred bits of shirt had spider webbed across him, and the smell, oh god the smell –

Danny pressed a fist to his mouth to avoid vomiting. Singed flesh and hair, melted fabric, and burnt scales. Oh man, did he know the smell of burnt scales. The fact that his partner had partially shifted was probably the only reason he wasn't in worse condition.

"Monica, where the hell is Doctor Mauna?"

He turned to look. A man in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair had busted back through the doors that Steve had been taken through. His attention was focused on the nurse that had stopped him from following.

"I don't know! We called her as soon as we were notified we had a burn victim," the nurse whispered fiercely.

The other doctor growled. "We need her, now."

Danny barely stepped out of the way as a woman jogged by him. She was tall, very tall, and looked like she had just tossed on her scrubs. The other doctor made a face at her.

"About time," he held the door open for her.

"You do realize he's got burns on him, too, right?" she pointed at Danny as she disappeared through the doors.

The other doctor walked towards him. "Detective Williams, right? Commander McGarrett's partner? I'm Doctor Hale."

"Doc, I'm fine. I just want to know how Steve is. Is he going to be okay?" Danny gestured at the doors.

The doctor inhaled deeply. "Honestly, I don't know. The burns are fairly severe but look localized, and as far as I could see, very little if any of the fatty tissue was affected. Our main concern is getting them cleaned and checking his airways to eliminate the possibilities of burns to the nose and throat. Depending on his O2 levels and coverage of the burns we may have to consider a hyperbaric chamber, but that is an if."

He calmed fractionally at hearing at least some sort of news. Doctor Hale frowned at him as he reached up to rub the back of his neck.

"Your burns need looked at as well, Detective," he said.

Danny glanced at the undersides of his forearms. They were pricked with small first-degree burns, looking more like sunburns than anything else. His scales must not have hardened completely before getting blasted with fire.

"I can have Monica here examine them and get you some aloe cream for the irritation," Doctor Hale motioned for the nurse with the dark braided hair to come over. "I'm going to go join Doctor Mauna."

The doctor made his way back over to the doors, leaving Danny in the care of the nurse. Before he walked through them, however, he glanced over his shoulder at him.

"Don't worry, Detective, your partner is in good hands."

Danny really hoped he wasn't lying.

* * *

 **Fire scares the tar out of me, so this here is almost more of a personal fear of mine. Kind of explains my love/hate relationship with acetylene welding.**

 **Watch for tomorrow's chapter. ;)**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	18. Fact 17

**Might I suggest listening to Cryo Chamber's "Cthulhu" while reading these chapters? Preferably via headphones.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #17: Dragons are the stuff of legends.**

 **Season: Early Season 3**

Chin glanced over at the little girl sitting in the seat across from his desk. She was quietly doing homework. She didn't look nervous or worried, but she was. He could just tell. The way she kept glancing at the floor and at her phone, the way she wasn't paying all that close attention to what she was working on, the fact that she had been working on the same multiple choice question for the past fifteen minutes.

"Grace, you doin' okay? Want a drink or a snack from the vending machine?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, thanks. I'm not really hungry or thirsty."

He sighed and leaned back from his desk. They had lost track of the Wyvern after it had escaped the warehouse. HPD choppers and patrols hadn't picked up the trail yet, so there wasn't much left to do while CSU was still processing the additional crime scenes and the hideout.

"Uncle Chin," Grace started timidly, looking up at him sadly. He sat up and set his elbows on the desk, leaning closer to her. "Is Uncle Steve going to be okay?"

"Let me tell you something, Uncle Steve is the toughest man I know, next to your father, of course," Chin said. She grinned a little. "He has some of the best doctors looking after him. He'll be okay."

She nodded and went back to her homework.

He glanced at his watch. Steve had been rushed to the ER two hours ago and he still hadn't gotten an update from Danny. He assumed that he would call if there was bad news, but he also assumed he would call if there was good news. No call made him think there was no news. That could be good or bad.

Grace made a small frustrated sound.

He looked at her. "Watcha working on?"

"It's this worksheet Mrs. Adams gave us," she held it up and set it on the desk.

Chin read it upside down. "You guys doin' a dragon unit?"

"Uh huh," she said. She frowned. "But I don't remember us doing some of this stuff in school."

He wanted to say 'wait until you get to high school and have to take a math exam where you were ninety-nine percent sure you hadn't covered anything that the test was on', but instead asked, "Want some help with it?"

"Danno usually helps me with it," she said and glanced back at her phone again.

"I'm sure he won't mind if I help you with it, just this one time," he gave her a small smile.

She scooted the chair closer to the desk and put her pencil to the page. "Okay, but don't tell me the answer. Danno says I have to figure it out by myself."

"I won't, I promise," he said. He was ready to get his mind off of his boss and off of their case.

"'How many dragon types are there?'" she read off. "I know it's more than three, but I don't know if it's more than six. Is it seven?"

How did he answer that without telling her the answer? And besides, what kind of question was that? There wasn't really a definite number to how many types there were, but he had a feeling he knew what they were getting at. "Can you name all of the dragon types?"

Grace held up a hand, popping a finger up with each one she named. "There're Amphibians, Drakes, Snakes-"

"Serpents," he corrected lightly.

"Serpents," she said. "Um, Amphibians, Drakes, Serpents, the tree ones…what are they called, again?"

"Arboreals," he said. "Good, you've got four of them."

"Okay, so there're Amphibians, Drakes, Serpents, Ar-bor-eals," she enunciated the last one slowly, "And then there are Wy…Wyverns?"

He nodded.

"Wyverns, and…." She paused, staring at the five fingers on her hand. "Cliffs?"

"Nicely done," he held out his hand for a high five, which he received.

"So there are six types," she circled one of the options.

"Six _recognized_ types," he said.

She put her chin in her hands and stared at him with wide eyes. "One time I had a sleepover and asked Danno to tell us a scary story and he told us one about a dragon that lived in the sewers and had no eyes. Is that a real dragon?"

Chin stifled a snort of laughter. "Well, _I've_ never heard of any sewer dragons. But, there is a legend about a type of dragon that lives in caves and old lava tubes on the islands. They have poor eyesight, but can feel vibrations in the ground and taste the air."

"Mrs. Adams read us some legends about dragons," she said. She looked down at the paper. "Hey, the next question is about legends. 'What was the name of the dragon that the fisherman bargained with in the story "Taming the Ocean" by Kaimana Ka'uhane?'"

His brows furrowed. "What are your options?"

"Um," she put her finger under them as she read. "The first one is 'Kraken'. Isn't that one a giant squid?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so not that one. The next one is…uh…'Jor-mun-gan-der'," she scratched her head and flipped the paper around so he could see.

"Jörmungandr. I think he was that big snake from Norse mythology," he said.

"He wasn't a snake, so it wasn't Jor…this guy," she moved on to the last two. "So it must either be 'Tephra' or 'Ki'ilio'."

"Did you read the story about the volcano and the dragon that made it erupt so it could take a nap in the lava flow?"

"I sort of remember it," she said. "But I thought that dragon had a different name that started with a C or something."

"That dragon went by many names."

"Well, that dragon was a girl and Tephra sounds like a girl's name, and the other dragon from the fisherman story was a boy, so it must be Ki'ilio," she concluded and circled that one.

"Good girl," he praised. While just going off if a name sounded feminine or masculine wasn't a surefire method to identifying who was who in the legends, it worked in this instance.

His phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered, not giving away that he knew the caller from the ID. He wanted to see if it was good news or not before letting Grace know. "Yeah, it's all good, brah. How about on your end?"

Grace's big brown eyes bored into him. He couldn't pull a fast one on her.

"Good, that's good to hear. Want us to meet you down there?" he asked. "Okay, we'll see you in a bit."

She waited until he set his phone down. "Was that Danno?"

"Yep," he stood up and slid his phone in his pocket.

"Uncle Steve?"

"In recovery," he said with no small relief.

"We're going to go see him?" she reached for her backpack by her feet.

"We're going to go meet your dad at the hospital and maybe we can see Uncle Steve."

Grace shoved her homework into the backpack and slung it over her shoulders. Chin barely kept up with her on their way to the car.

* * *

Chin caught sight of Danny pacing before they had even made it to the waiting room. There was probably a rut in the floor from him by now. He had never met a man that had more nervous energy than the Jersey native, but was used to seeing that energy coming out in hand gestures and sweeping arm movements rather than pacing.

"Danno!"

"Monkey," Danny stooped to embrace his daughter as she ran to him. He scooped her up in a massive hug and nodded at Chin. "Thanks for getting her."

"No problem, brah," he said. "How's Steve?"

"The doc said that they want to put him in a hyperbaric chamber for a few hours, and that he's on some pretty heavy drugs to keep the pain at bay," Danny tilted his head towards the chairs. He sat with Grace perched on his lap and Chin sat next to him. "His airways were clear and the doc said he didn't seem to have carbon monoxide poisoning."

"Is Uncle Steve gonna be okay?" Grace asked, looking up at him with those big brown eyes that could melt a trained Navy SEAL.

"What do you mean is he going to be okay? Of course he is, Monkey, your Uncle Steve is too stubborn to let a little bit of fire keep him down for long," Danny placed a kiss on her forehead. The look in his eyes when he met Chin's, though, told another story.

Chin leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and changed the subject. "So far Duke's men haven't found anything and CSU is still sweeping the warehouse."

"What about the other locations on the map?"

He glanced at Grace and raised a brow at him. The subject of the other recently discovered crime scenes wasn't something he wanted to discuss with her right there. Danny caught his drift and let it go. It was a badly kept secret that he wanted to preserve his daughter's innocence for as long as he could.

A very tall woman pushed through the doors on the other side of the hallway.

Danny asked Grace to stay in the seat while he got up to go greet the woman. She had to be around six foot, with copper hair pulled back into a ponytail and held off her neck with a clip. Her angular face was stern despite the soft freckles under her eyes.

"Detective Williams, I presume," she held out a hand to him. "I'm Doctor Mauna."

"How's he doing?"

She rolled her shoulders back and set her hands on her hips. "He's in the hyperbaric chamber right now, and Hale and I agree that he should stay in there for the next two hours. If we hit him hard now with the oxygen we shouldn't have to worry about infection or tissue death later."

"When can we see him?" he asked.

"Once we get him setup in a room, but he's still going to be out of it from the drugs," she said.

"Okay," Danny sighed quietly and started to head back towards the chairs.

"Detective."

He turned around again. "What?"

She reached into a pocket on her scrubs and pulled out a small specimen jar. She tossed it to him, saying, "Your partner's damn lucky."

Danny frowned at her as she disappeared back into the depths of the hospital. Glancing down at the jar his eyes widened a bit. Mutilated bits of scales were inside it.

* * *

Drops of rain slithered down his skin. Drops collected on his eyelashes, dislodging every time he blinked. Drops pitter pattered on his bare shoulders. Drops landed all amongst the foliage of the jungle. Drops, drops everywhere. Drops of blood dotted the tree limb he was sat on.

He hummed lowly as he picked the last of the buckshot out of his left calf. The lead bead bounced off the branches as he dropped it to the jungle floor. The shot must have only clipped him. He had only found three pieces in the wound. The two slugs from the handgun had grazed him. He was lucky.

Slowly, he stood up on the slick moss covered branch. His toes dug into the wood, but in his human form they were nearly useless. He gripped the branch directly overhead to stabilize himself. His upper right arm where the bullets had skimmed his bicep pulled and twitched with pain, all of which was ignored ruthlessly.

No more helicopters. They had to return to their helipads once the rain had started. Just the rumble of thunder and the drops of rain filled the sky now.

His mouth pulled into a grim line and his brows lowered. His dark mop of hair dripped in his eyes. Standing there in the trees way up on the mountain, completely nude save for the mask wearing dragons tattooed on his back, he gazed out over the green canopy. Down, down the side of the mountain. Down to the human filled city of Honolulu.

He pursed his lips and spoke quietly with a refined voice, "And its talons found the chink in the armor, and with a fevered frenzy tore it open. Panting in the heat of its own destruction, with wild molten eyes burning and sulfuric breath spewing, it gutted the city."

* * *

 **The bits of the poem he's talking about are slightly altered pieces from a poem I had to write my senior year of high school and still very much love.**

 **Tomorrow, guys. Tomorrow. It's going to be awesome.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	19. Fact 18

**Might I suggest listening to Cryo Chamber's "Cthulhu" while reading these chapters? Preferably via headphones.**

 **Love this chapter. And there's artwork, too.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #18: Flying is a privilege.**

 **Season: Early Season 3**

"Get these people out of here!"

"Inside! Inside! Everyone get inside!"

"Out of the streets! Get off of the streets, get indoors!"

"Stay away from the windows!"

"Don't let him out of your sight!"

Danny's ears were still ringing from all the shouting and screaming. Five-0 and HPD had put the city on lockdown. They were having a hard time keeping track of their Wyvern, seeing as the monster had managed to take one of their choppers out of the sky. They had lost two good men. And to compound all of that, the military was threatening to get involved if they didn't resolve it soon.

He pulled the Camaro to the side as a firetruck roared down the empty street, having to slalom around abandoned cars. Chin shook his head as a police cruiser zipped by seconds later accompanying the HFD.

"That makes fifteen."

"What the hell is this guy trying to do, huh? It's not like he's even targeting valuable places or the soft spots, he's just randomly setting stuff up in flames," Danny growled as he took a left around the block, away from where the emergency vehicles were heading.

"Some people just want to watch the world burn," Chin quoted.

"Yeah, well, he's not the Joker and this isn't Gotham," he snapped. He brushed his gloved hand over his face. "What's our last known location?"

Chin glanced down at the tablet balanced on his knee. "The last place Duke's men saw him was in the hotel district before losing track of him again."

"There're a lot of people in that area," Danny said. He took another left in the direction of the strip of hotels that lined the coast. Since the streets were clear of traffic he shot a look at the tablet and the pins on the map. "He's moving from the north going south."

"Must've come down off the mountain this morning," Chin said.

It barely looked like morning. The gray clouds that had shown up yesterday afternoon formed a thick ashen barrier between them and the sun, but it had yet to dump buckets of rain again. That was part of the reason the pair of them didn't see a shadow sweeping over the Camaro.

Danny and Chin both cursed as he flew ahead of them.

"Kono, we've got eyes on him. He's flying down Kalakaua Avenue, going south," Chin relayed.

" _On it!"_

"Cuz, be careful."

" _I got this, Chin."_

"What is he doing?" Danny questioned. He was keeping just behind him, giving him enough room to make an evasive move if need be but still close enough to follow.

The Wyvern's wingspan was impressive. He was a big dude. His body was very slender and barely made up any of his size. His wings, however, were almost forty feet across from tip to tip. No wonder he had been able to outmaneuver the chopper and take it down earlier.

"I don't like this," Chin murmured. "He's too calm."

Without warning the Wyvern peeled straight up into the sky, hurling a fireball only the size of a fist down at the ground. A wall of flames erupted in front of them. It followed an unseen trail to a car parked in the middle of the street.

Danny slammed on the brakes as the car exploded. Flaming debris rained down with a sound like hailstones hitting the hood.

"That's what he was doing when we lost sight of him," he said, carefully swinging the Camaro around the smoldering vehicle, going slower while trying to get eyes on him again. "I wish real dragons had a shot limit like they do on the cartoons. He would be out of fire by now."

"But Wyverns do have a limit. He's had to have burned through most of his glycerin and potassium permanganate by now," Chin pointed out.

"Probably why he used gasoline back there. Makes me worry that he's got more backup plans setup so he can give his glands time to refill," Danny's brows furrowed as he looked up the sides of the buildings.

Glass shattered and fell on the street a couple car lengths ahead of them in a glittering and deadly fountain.

"There!"

The Wyvern had a hold of the side of the building, clinging to it like a bat. Danny didn't fail to notice that the multi-horned head was swiveled in their direction. He was watching them with beady eyes.

Chin lifted his shoulder and spoke into the radio on his tactical vest, "He's on 'Ena Road heading for Ala Moana Boulevard."

" _I'm on top of the Hilton. If you guys can get him to get onto Ala Moana I can take the shot."_

"And how to you propose we do that?" Danny asked.

" _I don't know, run down the street this way or something."_

Danny gave Chin a look. "Live bait, really? You've been hanging out with McGarrett too much."

"It's our best option right now," Chin pulled his handgun out of its holster and rolled the window down.

" _You've_ been hanging out with McGarrett too much. Why am I the only sane one here?" Danny gripped the wheel with both hands and revved the engine as Chin fired off his first shots.

* * *

The first bullet shattered the window next to him. The second skimmed his back. And the third went through the membrane of his wing. He released his hold on the building, tucking his wings and dropping like a rock. Dropping, diving through the air.

 _Bang. Bang._

Miss. Miss.

He knew that despite all the training and despite all the preparation classes that law enforcement was required to take, a flying target was much harder to hit than a grounded one.

He snapped his wings out. His flightpath went from vertical to horizontal and he sailed over the shiny silver car. Fire, he was missing his fire. The glands in his jaw were slow to refill after his repeated use of them the past few days. He had only a few small fireballs left or one good long torrent.

Angling one wingtip, he swept back around. These two were the only ones still out in the streets. The only ones still chasing him. Chasing, chasing him down through a city that was refusing to burn. He had yet to find the chink in its armor.

The silver car peeled down the street once they realized he was in pursuit. His scorching orange eyes zeroed in on it, tracking every miniscule correction and every change of speed. The clear nictitating membrane shielded his eyes from the drops of rain that were tentatively trying to fall.

A man, a cop, a stupidly brave soul was hanging out of the passenger window, firing shot after shot at him. At these speeds and at his altitude, they were all misses. Some of them were near misses, but still misses.

All he needed was to push them towards another gasoline trap. This time, this time he would make sure they burned. He would not jump the gun and fire too early.

One wing canting right, he followed them onto Ala Moana Boulevard. Almost there, almost there –

 _Crack!_

He screeched at the sharp, fiery pain that consumed one wing.

Dropping, he was dropping. Angle the other wing, tuck it in. With a grunt, he impacted with the side of a building, hardly snagging a grip with his two wing talons on his undamaged one. Scrabbling his feet around his claws finally managed to hook onto a windowsill. Panting, he glanced at his left wing.

A bullet had shredded through his shoulder, shredded through the muscle. It tore a path through the pale purplish membrane of his wing. Blood dripped and marred the intense blacks and oranges and flecks of gold on his protective scales.

He swung his head around. Not a handgun, not a handgun. Bigger. Rifle.

There.

* * *

Chin raced up the stairs with Danny hot on his heels. Up and up and up they went. How many flights did this hotel have? Too many. His heart pounded in his ears and almost choked out his thoughts. Kono had been made. She'd taken the shot and it had taken the Wyvern down. For about a minute. It had taken him that long to figure out where the shot had come from.

Why did he let her do this? He should have been the one on the roof with the sniper rifle, not his rookie cousin. She should have been with Danny, or better yet hidden away in the Five-0 offices coordinating. But she was his cousin and had that mile wide stubborn and determined streak. No way could he validate benching her for this mission.

He rammed his shoulder into the door at the top of the stairs. A light drizzle greeted them on the rooftop.

"Kono!"

Several scorch marks crisscrossed in front of the doors. He had tried to keep her from getting into the hotel.

"Kono!"

"Chin!"

She was on the far corner. Smoke rolled from one of the AC units where a poorly aimed fireball had landed. More scorch marks streaked the ground and sidewalls.

"Kono-"

"Duck!"

They hit the dirt, barely getting out of the way as the Wyvern came screeching overhead with his hind claws outstretched.

"Kono!"

Scrambling to get up, he raced towards his cousin while Danny tore out of his vest. The Wyvern closed his talons around one arm and shoulder and dragged her off the building.

"Kono!"

She screamed as he let her go.

"Kono, no!"

He hit the protective sidewall and nearly went over himself. But Danny did go over. Just bounded on top of the wall and dove.

* * *

Danny grit his teeth, tightening his grip on Kono's arm. He was sure he had pulled her shoulder out of socket and blood from where the Wyvern's talons had pierced her was making her slick, but she was awake and alert enough to hold on to him for dear life.

"Danny, you're absolutely _lolo_!"

" _I've_ been hanging out with McGarrett too much," he confirmed.

All the muscles in his back strained. Speed growing wings while falling was not pleasant. At all. He couldn't even grow them fully without going completely dragon. Stunted in this state, they shook with the effort to keep them on a slow descent.

There was the crack of the sniper rifle above them.

Danny glanced over his shoulder. They started to wobble in the air. If that Wyvern came at them with his admittedly superior aviation skills, they were toast. But, it seemed, Chin was keeping him away.

He glanced back at Kono and the ground again, blinking rain out of his eyes. His weight plus hers on his half-formed wings was killing him. "Kono, hang on."

She yelped as he released his hold on her. She dropped a few feet into one of the decorative shrubs outside of the Hilton.

He tucked his wings, his feet hitting the street running and almost tripping him up. Breathing hard and shaking, he stayed crouched there for a moment. Rivulets of rain ran down his back and trickled over his aching wings, which tingled like they had ants biting them all over.

"Danny, you okay?"

He swiveled to look at Kono. A few bits of leaves and twigs stuck to her. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good. Sorry I dropped you in the hedges, but I was afraid of running you over. As you can see, I'm not too well versed in the art of landing."

She offered him her hand on the uninjured arm. "Hey, getting dropped in a bush beats pancaking on the ground."

He manically giggled. "I guess it does, huh?"

" _Kono, are you there? Kono, please answer me."_

"We're here, Chin," she lifted her left shoulder. "Our resident flyboy just saved my ass."

Danny brushed his hair back, wincing as his shoulder and neck muscles pulled. Sighing heavily, he retracted the wings. They disappeared under the remains of his shirt without leaving a trace they had ever been present, except for the throbbing and stinging that remained.

"Chin, we'll head to the hospital once you meet us down here, okay?" Danny said into the receiver on Kono's vest, since his was currently still on top of the building. "Where did our Wyvern go?"

" _Back north. I've already told Duke what happened, but with the rain starting again they may not be able to track him with the choppers."_

"Okay," he rubbed his hands over his face and shook his head. "We'll have to figure it out later. Right now, I need a new shirt, Kono needs a doctor, and we all need a cup of coffee."

" _Agreed. I'm almost down."_

He led the way towards where he had ditched the Camaro, keeping an eye on the skies as they went. Just in case.

"Danny?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"No, I mean it, brah. I know that you don't like having to pull a stunt like that in the open."

"Babe, I would go full dragon if it meant saving you or Chin," he said, and then added, "Or Steve."

Kono smirked. "Aw, how sweet."

"Shut up."

* * *

 **Well shoot, some of you guessed our boy had wings. XD**

 **And comment or PM for a link to artwork of the Wyvern. Guys, remember, the links have to go through the PMs, so I can't send it to guest reviewers unless I've got your user name. Sorry, no art for Danny. At this time. But there will be. ;)**

 **Thanks for reading and watch out for the finale tomorrow!**


	20. Fact 19

**Last chapter of the mini-arc. It's a big one I considered dividing in two, but left it as is. Cryo Chamber's "Cthulhu" is recommended.**

 **Artwork of Mauna is available to see, too.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #19: Every dragon has a chink in its armor.**

 **Season: Early Season 3**

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drop. Drip.

Rain dripped from the edge of the house. Dripping, dripping down into the overgrown grass on the front lawn. He could see every single drop as they blurred into sheets that washed over the jungle, that washed over the city and aided in its attempt at putting out his fires.

He had misjudged the city. Its armor was thicker than he had thought. His first plan at horrifying it into a frenzy had started to work with the twisted, mutilated burnt bodies. Then his hideout had been compromised so he no longer had easy access to his thermite.

The second plan of aerial dominance had certainly had the effect he had wanted. People running and screaming as fire rained from the sky. Taking a police helicopter out of commission. Seeing firemen wary of containing and dealing with his fires. It was all a thrill. And it had put the city into lockdown. Panic. Terror. That had been the endgame.

Two hours. That was all he had gotten out of that. No thermite and glands that were running low inhibited his effectiveness.

Two hours and then he had flown himself right into a trap. Stupid, stupid, moronic idiot that had been too caught up with the excitement of flying to notice that he had been baited into a sniper's crosshairs.

He grunted as he peeled himself away from the window of the house he had broken into.

It was hidden half-way up the mountain. No one was home. Unable to return to his usual hiding place, he had landed and busted the backdoor down. Helped himself to the first aid kit in the master bathroom. Commandeered a suitable pair of clothes. Cleaned all the edible food out of the refrigerator. Tuned into the radio.

The city had come out of its lockdown. Was forced to continue with day to day life. Ants warily coming out of their hill after a monsoon.

He had misjudged what the armor was. It was not the police or the firemen, no. No.

He had misjudged. The armor was the ones that had chased him away from his warehouse. The armor was the one he had burned. The armor was the brave souls that baited him. The one that shot him. The one that dove off the building after her. The ones that called themselves Five-0.

"And its talons found the chink in the armor, and with a fevered frenzy tore it open," he snagged the keys to the car in the garage off the rack behind the front door. "And I know what Five-0's chink is."

* * *

Foggy. Kind of blurry. Like he was swimming through mud. Dry mouth. Nasty dry mouth. Cottony. Dull hearing. Numb fingers and toes.

Pain. Itchy, scratchy in a few places. Throbbing and feverish in others. Flushed feeling.

Slowly, he forced his eyes open into slits. White ceiling tiles. White walls. Thin sheets. Sterile smell.

He groaned. He knew where he was. The hospital. He hated hospitals.

"Steve? You awake?"

Blinking a few times to get rid of the sandpapery feel of his eyelids, he tilted his head to the side and focused on the person standing there. "D…Dan…?"

He licked his lips, which might as well have been two pieces of charred wood with as dry as the were. Danny reached over to the tray table and grabbed a cup of water with a straw in it. He held it up to him.

Steve gratefully drew one long stream of water in, feeling it wash away the dry mouth and rehydrate his throat. He went for a second try at talking. "Thanks."

Danny nodded and set the cup aside. "The doc said you'd probably wake up thirsty."

"How long was I out?" he asked. It felt like he needed more water but knew better than to overdo it just coming out of his drugged haze, so he would settle with his cracked and hoarse voice.

"Just since yesterday afternoon," Danny glanced at his phone. "The doc said that you woke up a few times last night after we left."

Vaguely he remembered seeing a few people in scrubs. "Don't remember much."

"Yeah, I bet. They've got you on the good stuff. Mauna said they're going to start easing you off of the high dosage through today."

He started to sit up more, gasping when the undertones of pain in his shoulder and chest flared into a much more pronounced burning sensation.

"Easy, Steve, easy! Just 'cause you're Super SEAL doesn't mean you can walk off second and third degree burns."

His head swam as Danny leaned over and pressed the med pump on his IV. The pain was dying down to a smolder now that he wasn't moving, but the extra rush of drugs didn't hurt.

Third degree burns usually were insensate because the nerves had been fried. He, however, could definitely still feel pain. "How bad?"

"He got you pretty good," Danny found the control pad and levered his bed into a more upright position before sitting back in the chair that had been dragged over. Though drugged and fuzzy, Steve didn't miss the grimace he made when he sat down.

"You okay?"

"Hmm? Me? Oh yeah, sure, I wasn't the one that almost got barbequed by a living, breathing flamethrower," he waved him off. "You, on the other hand, were…well…if Chin hadn't have blasted him with the shotgun you would have been Colonel Sander's original recipe crispy."

"Remind me to thank him," he narrowed his eyes at his partner. "You sure you're okay?"

Danny sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. "We've been chasing this guy all over the city since eight this morning. Had the entire city in lockdown due to the fact that he was blitzing the place with fire. And then we lost him. Kono was _this_ close to taking him out of the sky and then it all went south. Never seen a guy take a Dragon Slayer round to the wing and then continue to fly."

His eyes widened. "How many rounds did she get off?"

"One, and Chin got off another but said he was pretty sure it missed by a hair's breadth," Danny shook his head.

"So what happened?"

"You know, typical stuff. An explosion, a high speed chase where the Camaro was the bait for a pissed off Wyvern, running, shooting, high rise buildings, fire. Lots of fire," he shrugged, and again pulled a grimace.

Steve opened his mouth to point out that yes, he was hurt and no, it was not nothing, but the door to the room opened and a very tall woman with sharp features walked in. Her teal scrubs clashed with her copper hair and warm amber eyes.

"Remember meeting me last night?" she asked.

He slightly remembered her stern yet smoky voice, but not much else that transpired. "Not really."

"I'm Doctor Mauna. Burn specialist," she said. "You're much more alert this morning than you were at three a.m. How's the pain?"

"Background," he said.

"The putz tried to sit up just before you came in and was in for a shock," Danny pointed at him.

"Probably a combination of coming off the drugs and then jostling the burns. Might experience some more pain like that as we continue to lower the drug levels," she set his chart down and braced her hands on the end of his bed. "The burns were mostly restricted to your right shoulder on down to the right side of your chest and ribcage. No nasal singeing or evidence of inhalation injury, but we put you in the hyperbaric chamber yesterday evening for two hours just to give you a head start on healing."

"Danny said something about third degree burns?" he glanced at the dressings wrapped loosely over his chest.

"One. Singular," she nodded and tapped herself just below the collarbone on her right side. "It's small. The rest are superficial second degree burns and three small spots are deep second degree. Like I told your partner, you're lucky."

"How long will I be here?"

She chewed one side of her lower lip and frowned. "Because of the location of the burns, I want to keep you here for a while so I can monitor the deeper ones. Don't want them progressing into third degree burns. The dressings will need to be changed, as well."

"So a few days?"

One brow arched into a sharp peak. "A week."

"What? That's-"

"Commander, I've never met you before, but I've recently met some doctors and nurses that _have_ ," she cut him off and leveled him with a glare. "I swear, if you fight me at every turn I will make your stay here a living hell. Capiche?"

"Okay," he held up one hand, careful not to move the other so he didn't disturb his burns again. "Understood."

She snorted. "Yeah, well, we'll see how compliant you are tomorrow. Now you, scat. He needs a full examination and the bandages need changed."

Steve smirked as Danny nearly scrambled out of his seat while trying to maintain a look of subtlety. It seemed like Mauna didn't need to ask or tell someone something twice very often.

* * *

The windshield wipers swept back and forth, back and forth. It was a rhythmic sound that he liked. The pitter patter of rain on the white Ford Explorer was soothing. Driving around the city, seeing it from a grounded perspective was a bit unusual. He had not done much driving on the island. Walked a few places, mostly flew under the cover of night.

He threw the vehicle in park and narrowed his eyes. Round, round he had driven through the parking lots and garages. All that circling had paid off. There it was.

The shiny silver Camaro.

* * *

"Grace at school?"

Danny glanced sideways at Chin as he sat down in one of the chairs in the waiting room with a fresh cup of coffee. It seemed like they were sustained by bad coffee and practically lived half of their lives either in the waiting room or a hospital room. He was sure that the seat had been forever imprinted with the impression of his butt.

"Yeah. I had just dropped her off at a quarter 'til eight when I got the call from you that Duke had eyes on our guy and that we were putting the city into temporary lockdown," he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "The school gathered all the kids up and had them in the hallways."

"Away from the windows, but close to a fire exit. Good," Chin nodded slowly.

"How's Kono?"

"They're stitching up the claw marks. The doc said they weren't very deep and didn't do much damaged. Her shoulder was out of socket, so they took some x-rays and put it back in. She's going to have to wear a brace for a while."

"Ouch. No surfing for the next few weeks, huh?"

"Nope. She's not too happy."

"I didn't mean to yank her arm that hard, I just-"

"Danny," Chin cut him off sharply. He set his hand on his shoulder. "You saved her life. You don't have to apologize for that. She told me she would rather miss a few waves than have to be scooped up off the sidewalk."

"If we had been five seconds later-"

"But we weren't. She's safe and Steve's safe," Chin sat back and grinned a little. "Looks like Steve has some pretty strong competition for the title of Team Superhero."

"Well, everyone needs to quit walking into these hornet nests and there would be no reason for me to have to be the Team Superhero. I think I'd rather leave that job to Super SEAL, anyway. It kind of sucks."

"Don't let Steve hear you say that," Chin said.

"Chin?"

They looked up at the short, stocky nurse with the close cropped blonde hair. Danny thought that maybe her name was Kori, but wasn't sure.

"Yes?"

"Commander McGarrett wants to see you," she smiled brightly.

"Just me?"

"Yes, just you. At least, that's what he said," she nodded.

Chin shot a glance back at Danny and shrugged as he stood up. He followed the nurse back into the bowels of the hospital.

* * *

He grunted as he stepped out of the vehicle. He had stiffened throughout the drive and now his abused muscles were thoroughly agitated with him. His calf protested his weight, his bicep stung, and his shoulder where the Dragon Slayer round had hit him alternated between being numb and being on fire.

The only thing saving him from collapsing in pain was the fact that he had taken Fire Root that morning for the previous gunshot wounds. It truly was an excellent painkiller, but it would wear off after a while. He planned to be done with this task and back at his hideout by then.

Ignoring the pain with a particular kind of ruthlessness, he walked into the hospital.

"Sir, can I help you?"

He glanced at the receptionist behind the curved desk. Her face drooped with exhaustion and judging by the amount of people in the chairs, she had every right to tired.

He smiled gently and set his rough and calloused hand on the desk. "I am just here to visit my wife. She was brought in this morning during the dragon attack, but I could not get to the hospital until now."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you know what room she's in or do you need me to check?"

"I was told room 323," he said.

"Go down that hallway to the elevators and head to the third floor. Once you're up there you can go to the nurses' station and they can point you in the right direction."

"Thank you," he wandered off towards the hallway, placing his hands in the pocket of his dark hoodie. The pleasant smile slid off his face as he pressed the up button.

* * *

Chin tapped his knuckles lightly on slightly the open door. "Steve?"

"Come in."

Steve was sitting upright in the bed, but was sweaty and flushed. Fresh dressings covered his chest and shoulder, hiding a sight that Chin wasn't too eager to ever see again. Or smell, for that matter. Right now, though, all he could smell was the sterile scent of the hospital and the dark roast coffee in his cup.

"You don't look so hot there, brah," he said as he took a seat in the chair.

"Remind me not to piss off the doctor," Steve exhaled heavily.

"Kind of rough around the edges, huh?"

"Kind of prickly and stubborn."

"Man, I wish I knew someone like that," he said cheekily.

"Yeah, yeah, but you should've seen Danny almost sprint out of here earlier," Steve smirked.

"I would've liked to have seen him do that," Chin sat forward with his elbows on his knees. "So, did you just want to gossip about your doctor or did you want me to come in here for something else?"

Steve sobered and his brows furrowed. "Danny told me bits and pieces of what happened, but won't tell me everything."

"And you want me to fill in the blanks," he said. He sighed. "What do you already know?"

"He told me about the lockdown and the fires, told me that Kono managed to hit him with a Dragon Slayer round and that he disappeared."

Chin nodded. "He was randomly starting fires. Attacked a few first responders at one, injured five firefighters and an EMT. Duke got a helicopter in the air and he took that out. Killed the pilot and an officer."

Steve sat up straighter in the bed, wincing as it jostled his burns. "He's bold. No fear."

"Yeah, and he's smart. He was running out of glycerin and potassium permanganate, so he started laying firetraps with gasoline once we lost sight of him the first time. Danny and I almost drove right into one."

"Danny, he's hurt, isn't he?" Steve partially asked, partially stated.

Chin rubbed a hand down his face. "Kono was setup on top of the Hilton with the sniper rifle and five Dragon Slayer rounds. We got his attention with the Camaro and led him into her line of sight down Ala Moana. Nailed him right in the shoulder and wing."

"Didn't ground him."

"No, didn't ground him. He knew _exactly_ where that shot came from."

Steve stiffened. "Kono?"

"He grabbed her arm and dragged her off the roof," Chin glanced at the floor and then back up at him. "And then he dropped her."

"What?!" the heartrate monitor next to the bed spiked. The color drained from his face.

"She's okay," Chin assured. "But if Danny hadn't have dove off after her, she would have more than an out of socket shoulder."

"Danny did what?"

"That's when he hurt himself," he said. "But it's not my place to say how. If you want to know, you're going to have to ask _him_."

Steve sat quietly for a moment. Chin was sure he probably already had a fairly accurate guess of what had happened. It wasn't too hard to connect the dots.

"Thanks," Steve said quietly.

"For updating you?"

"No, for back at the warehouse. Danny told me you scared the Wyvern off with the shotgun before he could finish the job."

Chin snorted. "He did, did he?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I did hit him with the shotgun, but I wasn't the one that saved you from frying."

"Danny? But why didn't he just tell me?"

"I dunno, brah. I dunno."

* * *

He stepped out of the elevator and swept dark eyes down one side of the hallway, and then the other. This, this was going to be the tricky part. Going room to room searching for the one he had burned in the warehouse would not do. He would draw too much attention to himself and wind up either kicked out or discovered.

With a slow and meandering pace, he walked towards the nurses' station.

"Are you looking for a room number, Sir?" a short woman with cropped blonde hair looked up from her computer at him.

"No, just exploring. Waiting for my girlfriend to get off her shift," he forced a smile again. "Apparently I am a bit early and she said she would text me when she was ready to leave."

"You know, we have a cafeteria you can hang out in if you go that way and then take a right," she pointed around the edge of a wall.

"I would rather walk around. I have been sitting all morning," he said. "I am going to take her to lunch at a sushi place a few blocks north of here."

"Cool. I love that place," she returned his smile and extended her hand. "I'm Kori, by the way."

He gingerly took her small hand in his. "Duncan. I hope you have a pleasant day, Miss Kori."

With that he continued on his meander around the nurses' station, rubbing his fingertips together. Humans had such soft hands. Even as a human, his were on the edge of scaly and were pricked with burn marks. He had almost forgotten what a tender hand felt like.

Down one hall he crossed paths with a woman that was nearly eye level with him, a feat considering he was 6'1". She glanced up from her clipboard at him.

"Morning," he greeted quietly.

He felt her eyes linger on his back longer than he would have liked, but heard her eventually resume walking. Quickly, quickly he needed to find the chink and then he could finish tearing the rest of the armor apart.

* * *

Danny heaved a sigh, crossing and uncrossing his legs. Having nothing to do was the hard part. With no way of tracking the Wyvern and with the blood they had collected from the rooftop still being processed, he didn't have much to keep him occupied. Plus half of the team was in the hospital.

He scrubbed his hands down his face and glanced towards the hall coming off of the nurses' station. Mauna had walked by not too long ago. She had looked exasperated. If he was a betting man he would put money down that it was Steve's fault.

Another man walked by going the other way. He was a new addition to this floor, but he seemed like he was just wandering. He nodded at Danny and gave him a thin smile as he went on his way.

"You know, the turkey and cheese sandwiches from the cafeteria aren't half bad if you're hungry."

He shifted his people watching gaze over to Kori as she peeked around the corner. "Are you telling me that this hospital actually has decent food?"

"I take it you've tried the oatmeal and the mystery flavored jello," she chuckled.

"Far too many times than what is normal for any other person on this planet. That partner of mine is a danger magnet. It's almost like at the beginning of every week we all draw straws to see who gets the short one that week, except there're usually two short ones, and sometimes I draw both of them."

"Remind me to be thankful that I'm a nurse, not a cop," Kori held up her hands. "So, on behalf of me and the nursing staff, thank you for doing a job we don't want."

He grinned at her. "You're rather happy for someone that sees a lot of horrible stuff at her job."

"Well, I figure it's either find joy in the little things or go insane," she said. "But seriously, I'm not lying about the food. It is lunch time."

"I guess I am a little hungry."

Kori gave him a thumbs up and headed back to the nurses' station just as Chin returned.

"You," he pointed at him, "are in trouble with the boss."

"The control freak just has to know everything, doesn't he, huh?" Danny rolled his shoulders back with a grimace.

"If you wanted to get away with it, you needed a better poker face," Chin said.

"I just don't like having to…you know…out in the field. One wrong move, one person sees, and that's it. Game over."

"That doesn't mean you can't take credit for saving his life. I'm going to go check on Kono and then grab something to eat. You should probably do the same. The Team Superhero needs lots of food after a save like that."

As he walked away Danny had to agree with him. Shifting always took a lot of energy that took a lot of food to replace, and he had not eaten much between yesterday afternoon and that morning. Not enough to replace the calories he had no doubt burned through. Maybe a turkey and cheese sandwich that Kori claimed was good wasn't a bad idea.

He stood up and took a left. The wandering man was limping up the hallway towards him this time.

"Been here a while?" he asked.

The man patted his thigh tenderly. "Needed to stretch my legs. Awful chairs they have here."

"Yep, that's a hospital for you."

"Blasted things. Hate them to death. Heading off to get lunch?"

"Yeah, I hear the turkey and cheese is pretty good."

"Prefer ham myself."

Danny nodded. The poor man looked haggard, with sunken, darkly circled eyes framed by high cheekbones. Looked like he'd skipped a day or two of shaving, too. To compound those things, sweat glistened on his forehead and his breathing sounded like he was in pain.

"You feelin' okay, pal? Kind of got the shakes there."

The man held his rough hand flat, observing the trembling. He breathed out with a hum. "Guess I have overexerted myself. Need to go back to my wife's room."

"Yeah, might want to head back before one of the nurses has to wheel you back," he said, hiding a frown at the man's breath. Very herbal smelling.

The man quirked a smirk at him. "I suppose you are right. Be seeing you."

* * *

Close. Very close. Perhaps too close. He always enjoyed playing close to the flames, but he may have pressed his luck speaking with the Five-0 man. The driver. The one that had the burnt umber and cinnamon marbled wings. Canyon wings. The short man had noticed the effects of the Fire Root wearing off, but he in turn had noticed that his shoulders were tense. The one with canyon wings did not use them very often. Intriguing.

He glanced over his shoulder at the retreating back of the man. Away, he was walking away. Good.

Facing front again, he yawned. The motion covered his partial shift, covered the changing purple tongue and the glands hidden under it. Not full yet, but full enough. This time, this time he would finish the job.

The brave soul that had hung out of the shiny silver car and fired at him had come from this way. He had watched from the other end of the hall. He knew which door it was.

He paused outside of it. "And the talons found the chink in the armor."

He pressed it open.

* * *

"Fire Root," Danny muttered to himself. That herbal smell had been bothering him for the last dozen or so paces he had walked. He knew he had recognized that earthy, spicy smell on the man's breath. It just took him a while to figure out what it was.

Which was odd. Fire Root was usually only used by dragons and mixed bloods. The only place to find it on the island was at the dragon market. It was a fiercely powerful painkiller.

He slowed to a stop. The hairs on his arms stood up and his stomach fluttered.

Fire Root was a powerful enough painkiller to mask gunshot wounds for a few hours.

He turned on his heel and bolted back down the way he had come. The wandering man cast a look back at him and disappeared into Steve's room. No, no, no, no!

He barely slowed as he passed the nurses' station. "Kori, call HPD and tell them the Wyvern is here."

"What?! Are you serious?"

"Now!"

His footsteps echoed his heartbeat as he ran. He pulled his gun from its holster and flipped the safety off. Doubt welled in his gut. This guy could take a Dragon Slayer round to the shoulder and continue to be a menace. It didn't bode well for them.

But that didn't matter. Not when his partner's life was on the line. Again. He burst into the room, shouting, "Five-0! Don't move!"

The tattered remains of the black hoodie and gray sweatpants were spread across the floor. His pounding heart skipped a few beats. The sheets on the bed were tossed aside and it was empty.

"The hell?" he whispered. The windows were intact, so the Wyvern hadn't grabbed him and taken him on a flight of terror. "Where…?"

A cold tingle went down his spine.

He tossed himself back through the door into the hall just as a torrent of fire engulfed where he had been standing. An upside down head appeared at the top of the doorframe. Talons the size of icepicks reached out and gripped the wall as the Wyvern crawled through like a spider.

Danny backpedaled out of the way of a smallish fireball. A ceiling tile crashed to the floor by him. The Wyvern climbed into the corner where the ceiling and wall met. His head twisted upright with a hiss.

Creepy. Like a freaking horror movie where the monster could crawl on the walls.

He fired two rounds. One went through a wing membrane and the other glanced off the rigid, orange and black scales armoring his back.

"Should have brought your sniper," the Wyvern rumbled.

It was revenge. The guy had managed to learn who they were.

"What do you want, huh? What good is any of this going to do you?" Danny asked, taking a few steps back. If the guy wanted to talk, he could talk.

"I misjudged what the armor on this city was," he lashed his tail around and struck several more ceiling tiles. One of the lights in the way exploded in a shower of sparks.

"Okay, so the city has armor. What did you think was the armor? Was it the first responders? Is that why you attacked them as you were setting fires this morning?"

Anything. A weak point. Every dragon had one. But a man that could handle a Dragon Slayer round definitely felt like someone with no weak point. Unless, that was his weak point. Fighting through the pain recklessly.

Danny narrowed his eyes.

"Initially, but I found out otherwise."

The Wyvern unfurled his right wing with a snap. The strong bone along its leading edge nailed him in the sternum, sending him sprawling.

He gasped as he sucked in a breath. Wingspan. The guy had a big wingspan. He flashed back to the refresher course a year ago. Rule number one, never forget that a dragon has a longer reach with all of its limbs than a human does.

Gun. Where was his gun? He craned his head around. Clear at the other end of the hallway by the nurses' station. Crap.

Cursing, he lunged to his feet just as needle teeth closed down inches from his foot. The Wyvern scrabbled on the slick floor as he ran. The guy couldn't get any purchase and was too big to maneuver properly in this confined space. At least he had that advantage.

He scooped up his gun and turned to fire.

The Wyvern opened his maw. A stream of glycerin squirted from under one side of his tongue and a stream of potassium permanganate from the other. Flames erupted as the streams crossed.

He hit the deck, rolling behind the desk in the nurses' station. Kori was tucked up underneath the desk along with another nurse. He motioned for them to keep quiet.

The man had been shaking earlier. The Fire Root he had taken must've been starting to wear off. He was in pain, which wasn't necessarily a good thing. But he was getting tired. This attack was different than the others. Less shock and awe, more calculated movements. He was saving his energy.

If he could hit him in the shoulder where the Dragon Slayer round had already wounded him, it may give them more leeway.

There was a clanging and banging above him. Dust rained down on his head.

He glanced up and leapt away from the desk before the Wyvern could land on him. The beast twisted and balanced on the desk with his hind feet, and then jumped at him.

Hot stinging daggers lanced through Danny's shoulders and back as talons hooked into him like cat claws on steroids.

The Wyvern slammed him to the ground, removing the wing talons and using his foot to keep him down. "You are the armor. And I will tear you apart."

Danny struggled against his weight. He was going to have to shift. He was going to have to shift in a hospital full of people. It would be game over.

Scales and claws had started to appear when a sharp whistle startled the Wyvern.

Glass shattered and suddenly the weight left Danny's back. Holding back a groan, he got to his knees and forced his feet under him while halting his shift and retracting the scales and claws. Flames danced across the Wyvern's back and down one wing as he streaked across the nurses' station at Mauna.

"Danny!"

Thank you, thank you! Finally. "Chin, he's-"

"Going after Mauna, I know," he cocked his gun. "Duke's on his way."

"What the hell is she thinking?"

"She's got a plan, but you need to get to the floor above us."

"And what am I supposed to do up there, huh?"

"Don't worry, brah, we've got you covered. Now go."

Danny didn't bother asking another question. He trusted Chin with his life and would take him at his word that there was in fact a plan and they were not flying by the seat of their pants. Even if that's what most of their plans consisted of.

He rammed his shoulder into the stairwell door with a grunt. Blood trickled down his back from the talon scratches and his muscles screamed in protest with every movement as he took the stairs by twos.

Fourth floor.

Panting, which hurt his ribs, he pulled the door open, which strained his shoulder. He hung his head and gulped air for a few seconds. He really had been put through the wringer that morning.

"It's about time, partner."

He whipped his head up. "Steve? What're you doing up here?"

"Supervising," he said. He was sitting in a wheelchair with an IV bag hanging on the back of it down the hallway.

Danny shook his head and jogged over to him. "So what's this plan that your insane doctor has?"

Steve pointed at the closed elevator doors. "We need to get these open."

"Okay, and then what?"

"Mauna will give you the signal and you need to cut the cables."

"With what? I'm not Edward Scissorhands, you Neanderthal!"

"You've got some big meaty claws. Use them!"

"I hate you so much," Danny ground out as he prized the doors open.

Elevator shafts had always given him the creeps. Whether it was their enclosed nature or the fact that one malfunction could drop the car several stories, he didn't know. He did know, however, that as far as plans went this one was definitely going to rank number one as the most boneheaded plan they had ever concocted.

"Danny, you're bleeding pretty bad."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when someone tries to flay you like a fish," he snapped. He exhaled harshly. "He was looking for you, you know. Walked right under my nose straight into your room."

"It's okay, man, we'll talk about this later."

Danny laughed. "If there's a later."

There was a bang from the floor below where the elevator car was sitting. A hatch he hadn't seen before opened. Mauna in her teal scrubs vaulted upwards, nearly defying gravity as teeth snapped shut under her. She flung herself onto their floor.

"Now!"

His claws wouldn't cut through the thick cables in time. Growling, he jumped down onto the car and partially shifted. Huge jaw muscles pulled his mouth open as he lunged towards the farthest cables. Electricity danced across his tongue as he caught the thick cables with lower sickle shaped canines and sliced through them. The car creaked and groaned with the weight of the pair of them.

"Move, move!" Mauna urged.

Danny grabbed the other ones, holding onto them tightly as the Wyvern's head peered up from the hatch. His beady eyes widened as he stared him dead on and bit through the last two cables.

The car dropped.

A horrendous cry of anguish accompanied it.

His shoulders shrieked in pain as his weight was suddenly held up solely by his grip on the cables. Screwing his face up, he swung for the elevator doorframe and partially jumped, partially stumbled onto their floor, shifting his upper half back into human form as he did so.

An explosion of debris shot up the shaft behind him.

He pulled his shaking hands over his face and breathed through the adrenaline and pain. That was so stupid. Such a stupid plan. He couldn't believe that it had worked or that they had survived it.

"You're still never going to let me get a look at you, are you?" Steve said.

Danny looked up at him and was met with Aneurism Face. "Shut up."

* * *

It was well after lunch. After having the two huge scores that ran the length of his back stitched, one of the nurses had brought him a pair of scrubs. Slowly, he had made his way to Steve's new room. He was absolutely trembling. His legs felt like pudding and his back like a scratching post. The only bright side to look at was the fact that he was now sitting in a chair, though uncomfortable as it was with the wounds on his back, with his feet propped on his still very much alive partner's bed.

That and the fact that there was no longer a Wyvern with free reign loose raised his spirits just a touch.

Chin walked through the door closely followed by Kono.

"Hey look, it's the only man still standing," Danny quipped.

"Don't be too happy. With you three off for the next week, I'm going to be the only one having to work," he said. He handed him a bottle of water and a sandwich.

"Turkey and cheese?"

"Kori swears by them," Chin said and dragged two more chairs over to the bed.

"What's the status?" Steve asked, eyeing his bowl of dry oatmeal and unidentifiable green jello and then their food.

"Other than Danny, no one else was hurt this time around. Kori's pretty shaken up, but she's okay," Chin said.

"And the Wyvern?"

"In surgery."

"What?" Danny almost choked on his mouthful of sandwich. "We dropped the guy three stories down an elevator shaft and he's still alive?"

"He wasn't actually in the shaft," Kono supplied. She reached forward and set her other half of a sandwich on Steve's tray table.

"He had mostly scrambled out of it when it dropped," Chin shook his head. "His wing got caught when it dropped. Severed half of it."

Their faces remained neutral. It was a gut wrenching thought, but at the same time evoked a kind of grim satisfaction.

Steve picked up the sandwich half with a grateful look and asked, "Is he going to the mainland?"

"Duke said that they already have arrangements for him to be moved to the Ranch in Montana after he's out of surgery. He'll be heavily sedated for the flight," Chin said. "Charlie also called and said that there weren't any matches in either database. He's an unknown."

A few minutes ticked by as they finished eating in silence. It honestly didn't feel like two in the afternoon. More like nine in the evening. Danny knew that he was ready to pop a few painkillers and go to bed.

"So, whose cockamamie plan was the elevator shaft? Yours or your stuntwoman doctor's?" he asked.

"My ears are burning."

Mauna loomed in the door. She perked a brow as the last bit of sandwich disappeared into Steve's mouth, like he was afraid she would take it away.

"Well, hello Miss Molotov Cocktail," Danny greeted.

"The shaft was my idea, using you to drop it was his," she pointed a finger at Steve.

"Okay, I can see that. But why wasn't he in his room when the Wyvern first attacked?"

Chin and Kono looked surprised. They weren't completely up to date on all that had happened. Danny made a note to catch them up later.

"Let's call it a gut feeling," she said and crossed her arms over her chest. "When I walked by him earlier something set me on edge."

Being cops they all knew what that gut feeling was. Danny was just glad that she had listened to hers and moved his partner in time. But that wasn't what was bothering him now that she was standing in the room with just the four of them.

"You're very calm under pressure, especially when there're all kinds of crazy dragonish things going on," he said as he steepled his fingers. "You sure saw a lot today, a lot more than normal, right?"

She swept her warm amber eyes over them, sighing and tapping her foot. "As far as I'm concerned, a Wyvern tried to kill my patient and then went after his partner. You led him into the elevator and it couldn't take the weight."

"And that's how it happened, huh?"

"That's how it happened," she nodded firmly. She dug into a pocket on her scrubs and pulled out a card. She handed it to Danny. "Only for emergencies."

It had a phone number on it and that was it. He glanced up to ask but she was already gone.

"Just what we need, another Rambo Neanderthal animal on speed dial," he tucked the card into his wallet.

Kono sighed heavily and slid down in the chair, kicking her feet up on the other side of the bed. "We are going to have _so_ much paperwork."

"Why do you say that? Us three are on medical leave for the next week, which means that Chin is the one that has to do all the paperwork," Danny waved a hand at his teammate.

"Don't worry, guys, the great thing about paperwork is you can do it at home," Chin said smugly.

They all groaned.

* * *

 **Phew! This last chapter was so difficult to write and had three or so versions, each with a different ending and one that was completely different in its entirety. Hope you enjoyed this mini-arc!**

 **How do you guys feel about the OCs (Mauna and the Wyvern)? Comment or PM for a link to see a bust of Mauna I did. Guys, I can't send you the link if you're commenting as a guest. I have to send it through PMs. Sorry.**

 **Also, would you guys be interested in taking a look at the Ranch there in Montana? Only thing is it might not have any of the team in it, but would be more of a glimpse into the world building. Unless, of course, I can come up for a logical reason for the boys to be there.**

 **Next week is regular posting on Tuesday and Thursday. After that I may have to go to only once a week posting since November and December are always very busy for me, but we'll see. ;)**

 **So stay tuned for next week on "Dragons", where we have a quiet moment at Steve's house when he gets home from the hospital and then on Thursday a new chemical is trying to weaponized, but it's effects on dragons are unexpected. Guys, Thursday will be _the_ day. No more screwing around. It's Danny's turn now.**

 **Thanks for reading, and please don't be shy about suggesting prompts, thoughts, ideas, facts, characters, whatever!**

 **Also, thank you for all the reviews and thank you guest reviewers that I couldn't reply to directly! Thank you, I try very hard to construct my mythos so it's cohesive. I love world building. And don't worry other guest, there will Danny whump.**

 **Sorry for the freakishly long author's note. XD**


	21. Fact 20

**A quiet moment. Artwork for this one.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #20: Dragon cartoons are a thing. A very popular thing.**

 **Season: Early Season 3**

 _Dust motes floated through the beam of his flashlight. The abandoned warehouse-turned-hideout held a strangled silence after having been filled with screaming twenty seconds earlier. It was dark and dank, smelling moldy. But there was another scent starting to permeate the gloom. Smoke. Singed hair and flesh._

 _"No, no, no, no, no," his knuckles were turning white from his clenched grip on his gun._

 _Peeling around one old and rusty shipping container, he paused. Blood turned to ice. Heart dropped out of his ribcage._

 _"Steve!"_

 _Bile rose in his throat._

 _Charred skin, cracked and flaking in some places, covered his partner's facial features. The fingers on his hands were gnarled and blackened bones poked through the charcoaled flesh. His t-shirt and cargo pants had melted and merged with him. Smoke wisped up in lazy tendrils._

 _He choked. "Oh my god, Steve-"_

 _The malevolent shadow hanging from the catwalk swung down to the ground. Beady, fiery orange eyes narrowed at him._

 _He fired round after round at him, but it didn't faze him. The Wyvern screeched at him, opening his mouth and releasing a torrent of all consuming fire -_

* * *

Steve glanced over as Danny startled awake.

"Bad dreams," Grace whispered with a worried look at her dad.

The TV on the other side of the room droned on quietly. He had been released from the hospital that morning with strict orders not to do much of anything other than keep an eye on his burns and return in a few days to be examined again.

The usual round of visitors that appeared whenever someone made it home from the hospital had already been by. Chin and Kono had brought him lunch, Kamekona swung by with balloons and garlic shrimp, Max dropped off a card, and of course Danny was the last to arrive. He had picked up Grace after work and brought Italian over for dinner.

"You okay there, bud?" he asked.

"Hmm?" Danny rubbed his hands down his face and settled more comfortably into the corner of the couch. "Yeah. Just had a nightmare that I owned a really nice car, but was cursed to never drive it again."

Steve gave him a 'not buying it' look. But he'd let it slide for now.

"Uncle Steve, what do you think of the thing I got you?" Grace asked.

Steve looked down at her snuggled against his left side and then at the coffee table were the little stuffed dragon was. "I think she's adorable."

"He."

"He," he corrected.

"His name is Toby," Grace leaned forward and snatched it off the table. She handed it to him.

"How do you know that?" he couldn't see any little tag with a name on it like TY Babies had.

"He's a character from that cartoon," Danny waved a hand between the toy and the TV. "You know, the one with all the little dragons and the monsters and it's supposed to teach kids life lessons."

"The one with all the high-pitched singing?" he furrowed his brows.

"No, that's _Stomp Party_ , that one's for really little kids," Grace said. "Toby's from _Dragon Ranger Academy_."

Danny pointed. "That's the one."

"Huh," he gave the toy a light squeeze. It was actually very soft and cute. "So I take it that Toby's an Arboreal?"

"Uh huh," Grace nodded. "Haven't you seen _Dragon Ranger Academy_?"

Steve shot his partner a glance and received an ambiguous smirk. "Um…no?"

Grace grabbed the remote. "They do all day marathons of it on Fridays on one of the kid channels."

Danny crossed his arms over his chest with a grin that Steve wasn't particularly sure he liked. He had watched cartoons when he was young, typical '80s stuff. There had been _Transformers_ , _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_ , _Thundercats_ , _G.I. Joe_ , _Dragon Force_ , things like that. Once he was a teenager and especially once he had gone into the Navy he hadn't had the urge or time to watch cartoons other than pieces here and there when his partner's daughter was around.

Grace found the channel she was looking for and clicked on it. She sat back, head resting on his chest with her knees tucked up. Steve kicked his feet up on the coffee table and reclined farther into the couch, mimicking his partner's position.

Barely two minutes into the show he leaned over and stage whispered, "What's going on?"

"The one they're trying to get out of the crack in the ground is Mai," Grace pointed as the characters flicked across the screen. "The two arguing on top of the cliff are Toby and Cedar."

"I see the resemblance now," he held up the stuffed toy and compared it to the spruce and pale blue Arboreal character having a heated argument with a rusty orange Drake that must've been Cedar.

He went quiet as the show progressed. They had come in during the middle of an episode, which partially explained why he was lost. Apparently, it was set in the not too distant future where young, he was guessing early to mid teens if the voice acting was anything to go by, dragon kids had the option to go to school to become Dragon Rangers.

"Why can't she just fly out of there? She is a Wyvern, isn't she?" he asked.

"She broke her wing in the last episode when an earthquake knocked down part of the Academy," Grace answered.

"You've seen this episode before?"

"No, Steve, she's seen _every_ episode. Three times," Danny said. He flicked his wrist at the TV. "The show's in the middle of its fourth-"

"Fifth."

"Fifth season right now. Seriously, babe, how have you not seen it before?"

"I dunno," he shrugged, wincing as it pulled the tender flesh on his shoulder and chest.

"It's one of the most popular cartoons."

"I thought that was _The_ _Simpsons_?"

"Well, for you and me, maybe, but for kids and young teens it's this show, _My Little Pony_ , and _Adventure Time_ ," Danny explained. "I, myself, personally prefer the antics of Bugs Bunny."

"Of course you would, he's a streetwise Brooklynite," he shook his head.

"Shhh," Grace hushed them.

"Sorry," they both muttered.

* * *

Danny cracked his eyes open, relieved to not be startled out of sleep this time. He must have dozed off again. It had been a long, hard week. The whole Wyvern attack and the subsequent paperwork had left them all drained emotionally and physically. And then another case had already been dropped in their lap. Something to do with pharmacy break ins that if he was honest should have been handled by HPD.

He craned his head around. It was dark outside. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. Seven thirty. Grace and him probably needed to get home.

"You're still watching this?" he asked as he lowered his feet off the coffee table and sat up straight. The talon marks being held together by stitches on his back and his severely bruised sternum yelled in protest.

Steve nodded, holding a finger up to his lips and pointing at Grace. A pillow had been moved onto his lap and her head was resting on it, sound asleep.

Danny grinned. In a softer voice he said, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that you now know every character on the show, huh?"

"Toby the leader, Mai the gentle, Cedar the muscle, Hawthorne the shy, Beck the brilliant, and Aspen the brave," Steve named off flawlessly.

"That's what two and a half hours of watching this show will do to you," he gestured to the battle montage taking place on the screen. "I can name almost every kid that attends the Academy and all of the teachers and all of the bad guys."

"That one guy with all the black tar oozing out of him is kind of freaky," Steve said.

"Ah, Balthazar and Calloway," he nodded.

" _And_? Both heads have a name?"

"At the end of one of the seasons you find out that they're actually twins that fused in their dragon forms at birth and can't shift into humans."

"That's why they have four wings and two tails."

Danny snorted with a laugh.

Steve furrowed his brows at him. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," he held up his hands. "You're just so into it. Mister Navy SEAL, a man of many national secrets and our very own Team Superhero, is enjoying a show aimed at ten year olds."

"Says the man that knows the name of the bad guy," Steve smirked.

"Touché."

Steve's smirk faded and he looked at him seriously. "But, I think the title of Team Superhero belongs to you, partner."

The currently dormant scales on his forearms itched and the strained muscles in his shoulders twitched as he flashed back to jumping in front of a torrent of fire and to diving off the hotel after Kono.

"According to you, this is what I signed up for," he glanced at the TV.

"Hey," Steve waited until he was looking at him again. "Thanks for saving me at the warehouse."

"How'd-"

"Chin ratted you out when I thanked him for saving me."

"You grilled him, huh? Couldn't just take my word for it?"

"Not when you're saying one thing and I can see another. Like how every time you moved your shoulders you winced. Why didn't you just tell me? Why so secretive?"

"Because…it's classified."

"Come on, man."

Danny stood up. He set his hand on his daughter's shoulder gently. "It's to protect her. Grace, come on, baby, let's go home."

She mumbled sleepily. "Mmm, stay the night."

"Grace."

"It's cool, man."

"Monkey, you don't even have a toothbrush or pajamas," he pointed out.

"She can wear one of my t-shirts and I've probably got a toothbrush she can use," Steve, ever the enabler, said.

"Please, Danno?"

He sighed heavily and frowned at the big brown eyes being directed up at him. "Okay, okay. I'll be over in the morning. Give your Uncle Steve a hard time for me, huh?"

"Love you, Danno," she sat up and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Love you too, Monkey," he ruffled her hair and then looked at his partner. "You're not getting a kiss."

Steve grinned. "Night, Danno."

"Yeah, night, Steve."

* * *

 **Comment or PM for a link to see the Dragon Rangers!**

 **Thursday on "Dragons", a new type of chemical weapon used to disorient humans has a radical effect on dragons. And it may prove fatal to underestimate Danny.**

 **Thank you all my faithful readers and reviewers! You mean so much to me!**


	22. Fact 21

***drum roll* It's the chapter you've all been waiting for!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #21: Never underestimate a dragon.**

 **Season: Early-mid Season 3**

Steve slammed down on the gas pedal, crushing it almost even with the floorboards of the truck. His sirens blared as he blasted through the traffic. He was like Moses of old, parting the Red Sea and sending waves of cars scattering away from him. His partner would have his head for this kind of reckless driving at these speeds.

But that didn't matter now. No. He would face the wrath of his partner gladly. That was, if he could get to him in time.

* * *

 _Earlier…._

Danny rubbed his hand around the back of his neck. Sweat ran in rivulets down his face and between his shoulder blades. It was a kind of cold sweat like he had when fighting a fever, except he knew that this wasn't from a fever. He wasn't sick this time, hadn't been sick in a while.

He was drugged.

He had been exposed. He knew it as soon as that small explosion had gone off in the parking lot of the Palace. It was an aerosol dispersal method, something that the guy they were tracking had been tinkering with. They didn't think he'd be bold enough to set one off so far into the city.

The road in front of him blurred momentarily. Blinking rapidly, he brought his hand up to his eyes and wiped them. Everything sharpened into focus again. He turned off the street he was on to a less busy one, groping for his phone on the passenger seat and deftly selected a number once he had it in hand.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," he whispered harshly. Sweat ran into his eyes and pricked at the hairs on his hairline. Shards of ice prickled through his chest. "Come on, pick up!"

The ringing stopped. " _Danny? Where are you? Our suspect set off a device in the parking lot-"_

"I know, I was there," he snapped. He swallowed hard and pulled in a shuddering breath through his nose.

" _Are you hurt? We didn't see your car outside."_

"Listen, I'm heading out of the city, okay?" he said.

" _What? Why? Bud, you need to-"_

"Shut up! He got the damn aerosol to work," he yelled at the phone, almost driving off the road in the flash of rage that rose up. He shook his head violently. He couldn't lose it right now.

There was a hearty string of muffled curses from Steve and Chin on the other end. " _Danny, are you-"_

"Yes," he said. "I'm sure. I-"

Frigid claws sunk into his chest firmly. His body tried to respond with an intense wave of heat. Black edged his vision and he nearly dropped his phone.

" _Danny!"_

"Steve, that place you said your dad liked to camp, okay? You understand me, huh?" he ground out.

" _Danny, stop! Just pull over-"_

He hung up on him.

* * *

"We've got a tag on Marzullo's car," Chin said.

"Okay, wrangle a few HPD officers and get after him. I'm going after Danny."

"I can go with Chin, Boss."

"No. I want you stay here and coordinate with Fong about getting a hold of the reversal. I don't want any full bloods getting near this guy, is that clear?"

"Got it."

"Good. Call me as soon as you've got something," Steve turned to leave.

"You sure you want to go after Danny alone?" Kono asked.

Steve glanced back at her. "I can deal with him."

As soon as he had left the office Chin looked at his cousin. "I think he's underestimating his partner."

* * *

 _Present…._

Steve drove into the hidden pullout on the ill maintained road and cut the engine on his truck. The Camaro was parked in the weeds a couple feet away. He jumped out, glancing inside the other car briefly. Empty.

A chill rose the hairs on his arms and neck. Stealthily he followed the narrow trail through the dense growth into the mango and banyan trees. His instincts told him that he was in hostile territory where he needed to keep hidden and make sure he had his target in sight at all times, but he had to remind himself that he was looking for his partner, not an enemy.

A bit of blue tossed into the green shrubs caught his eye. He crouched next to it. It was a pair of shoes with a shirt piled on top of them. Specifically, it was his partner's shoes and shirt.

Steve sighed just as his phone rang. He answered quickly, "Kono? You got it?"

" _Got it. Heading to your location now."_

"Hey, be careful. I don't know what it's gonna look like when you get up here," he hung up.

He got up and continued walking. At least he knew that he had come this way. That made finding him a bit easier. He just hoped that he wasn't too late. That maybe he could talk him down or at least keep him distracted until Kono got up here.

There was a cough and a groan.

He hunched down lower and snuck around the bend in the trail. His eyes alighted on his partner, who was leaning on a tree trunk with his bareback towards him. The two talon marks that scored his shoulders had scabbed over and no longer were held together with stitches. He was a bit stunned by how far down his back they tracked, but shook his head. He needed to focus. So far he didn't see anything physically wrong. Maybe he would be able to pull this off.

"Hey partner," he said quietly as he stood up.

Danny craned his head around to see him. He looked like death warmed over.

"Steve?" he whispered, like he couldn't quite believe he was there.

The drugs were powerfully disorienting, at least on humans. The first victims had all been humans two days ago. Yesterday they had run into a woman that had shifted into her Drake form when she had been dosed along with a handful of other patrons in a restaurant. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Calm and gentle. That's what he needed to be right now. "Danno, it's okay. You're safe, bud."

Danny's eyes narrowed and Steve saw the nictitating membrane slide across them. "How many times have I told you not to call me Danno?"

Strike one. He paused and kept his hands visible. No sudden moves. Anything could be a trigger. "Sorry, man. I thought you liked it when I said, 'Book 'em, Danno'?"

"That's another thing!" Danny turned to face him fully, the yellow and green bruising on his chest clearly visible, and jabbed a finger in his direction.

Strike two. Man, it was like walking in a minefield and he was sure he had just heard the click of one getting stepped on.

"I finally figured it out. You kept telling me to book them because you didn't know how to because you weren't a real cop! You were and still are a boneheaded Neanderthal!" he shouted.

Steve tried for humoring him. He held his hands up in a placating gesture and shrugged. "I'm sorry, okay? I had just gotten out of the Navy and didn't know the first thing about police procedure. But I had you there to watch my back while I got the job done, right?"

Danny laughed.

It wasn't a funny laugh.

It was a laugh that was on the cusp of coming unhinged.

"Putting an innocent bystander at risk, hanging a guy off a roof, tossing another one in a shark cage, using a grenade to blow off a shop door, oh yeah, they got the job done alright. And I will admit that your way _does_ get the job done, but guess what else it does?"

He didn't give him a chance to reply.

"It gets me hurt! It puts all of us in danger! How many times have I told you to wait for backup and you rush ahead anyway, and then I have to go in after you and I inevitably get shot or blasted or caught up in a fist fight with some freaking martial arts guru!"

Steve opened his mouth, but stalled as he caught sight of scales starting to appear along his partner's arms and shoulders.

"No! You don't get to talk! You know what, you're going to get yourself killed because I'm not going to be there in time, you know that? You're going to charge headfirst into a situation, ignoring everything we're telling you! We need backup, Steve. We need to let someone know where we are, Steve. It's not a good idea to split up, Steve. And one time I'm not going to get there in time to jump in front of the fire, and this time you're going to burn and die!"

That had happened two weeks ago and he had barely returned to active duty two days previously. He was still tender around the healing burns on his shoulder and chest, but that's what they were. Healing.

He asked, "That's what this is about?"

"Yes! No!" Danny dug his fingers through his hair and growled. "I don't know! I can't think straight."

"Okay, it's okay, bud, you just need to calm down and chill out," Steve eyed the bigger scales taking shape along his shoulders and neck as well as the curved scutes growing from his forearms.

"Chill out. Chill. Out. Chill out?" he repeated.

Crap it all. Strike three. He was out.

"Why does everyone think I need to chill out, huh? Why does everyone brush off my worries as nothing? As overreacting? Why, Steven? Why?"

Steve stumbled back a few steps away from his partner's intense gaze.

"Why?!"

He dodged off into the brush when Danny lunged. On a man to man basis, he would be able to take him down. That's what he was trained for. He had only gotten popped in the jaw when they first met because it was unexpected. No way, no how had he expected the shorter man to have the guts to take a swing at him and thus his guard had been down. His guard was not down, not now.

He was also not on a man to man basis.

Scrambling out of the way, he sprinted for the banyan tree his partner had been leaning against earlier. His planted his feet and squared his shoulders, preparing for what was to come.

Danny hunched over in the brush, eyes narrowing defiantly at Steve. This wasn't his partner anymore. That absolutely murderous look on his face was not his. It was the drugs. Disorienting to humans and mixed bloods, they were like steroids to dragons.

"Danny, bud, you don't want to do this," Steve warned.

Danny hissed at him. It was unnerving to the extreme, seeing a glimpse of nonhuman dentation and the flicker of scorched blue tongue tips. Overlapping scales multiplied and started to encompass his changing anatomy, forming a formidable barrier.

The cracking and grinding of shifting bones made his heart thump harder. He held his hand up like he was facing down a mean dog. "No, bud, you need to stop. Don't shift. Don't do it."

"No," it was a low and mutilated sound, but it definitely belonged to his partner.

Arms turned to forelegs, fingernails to monstrous curved talons, hair to a crest of rigid elongated scales, nose to a short horn. Sharp scutes swept off his lower jaw. Normally round pupils in pale blue irises turned to slits and zeroed in on him.

Fast. He was a fast shifter.

"Call me impressed, Danno," Steve murmured, taking a step back.

His partner's eye level was just a bit taller than his eye level now, but the huge set of wings he fanned out in a dominant display made him look massive. Burnt umbers, cinnamons, beiges, golds, and flecks of coffee browns gave him a unique color palette that he hadn't seen on many, if any, dragons. Even the patterns on his wings were strange, the topsides mimicking marbled canyon walls and the lighter undersides vaguely having the swirled pattern of the interior of a nautilus shell.

Danny growled, something that was a very deep rumble originating in his heavily armored chest and sounding more like thunder.

Steve held his ground. This is where the line between man and animal, between man and monster blurred. Everything about his partner screamed aggressive, from his posture right down to his build. It called to mind something of a hybrid of a Pitbull and a bear mixed with a cockatoo and an alligator with some ceratopsian dinosaur thrown in there for good measure.

"Danny, easy," he said slowly.

The huge wings tucked in against his sides. The muscles under his tough looking hide bunched and then he sprang at him.

Steve ducked and bolted out of the way. Claws slammed down where he had been standing. Danny pivoted on his feet, beaked upper jaw snapping at him. Hot breath washed over the back of his neck as he sprinted. That was a close one.

A thick crocodilian tail swung around and clotheslined him.

Blue sky drifted in speckled patches through the canopy above them. Fuzzy gray dots floated through his vision as he caught his breath.

He rolled to the side. Teeth crunched closed mere inches from his head.

"Danny, it's me, buddy, it's me!" he got to his feet and faced his partner again. "Come on, you can fight this. You're the most stubborn man I know."

Claws swept out at him. Sucking in his gut and arcing away so they only snagged his shirt, he was forced to put some distance between him and his raging friend.

Danny lowered his head. His drugged eyes tracked every movement, every twitch that Steve made.

"Come on, bud, Kono will be here soon," Steve said. "Hold out. Fight it."

His wings shot open and he bounded into the air.

"No!"

By the time Steve's feet left the ground he was mostly shifted. He wrapped his forelegs around Danny's hindlegs, yanking him back to the earth. They crashed in a heap of limbs in the undergrowth.

Wild eyes narrowed at him. His partner kicked out with one hindfoot and caught him with a wicked long dewclaw.

Fire and a thousand beestings swarmed through his burned shoulder and chest. His vision and balance tottered and he pitched sideways. The gray fuzzy floaties were back and almost blinded him. Danny slipped out of his grip as he gasped for air through clenched teeth.

His breathlessness was not helped when a solid mass pounced on his chest. Again and again and again until he felt a few ribs give. Adrenaline and training finally slapped his brain awake. He twisted upright with a roar and latched onto his partner's neck.

Obviously fireproof scales flattened under his fangs. He could hardly get a grip on him. Especially not as his partner reared back and raked at him with his claws. He used his forelegs to block the hits as he adjusted his jaws, smooth scales sliding and scraping under his teeth.

With a burst of strength, he shoved upwards and managed to get his footing back.

Danny flung himself backwards. His big jackrabbit like hindfeet gave him a hard shove that launched Steve over his head where he flopped on his back with the wind knocked out of him for a second time.

Steve grunted and stuck his front feet up, catching the upper and lower sets of teeth that were bearing down on him. The lower canines were bigger and longer than the uppers, being more curved like tusks. Woody breath panted over his face as Danny fought to shut his mouth.

He twisted his partner's head to the side and flipped him on his back. Not wasting his window of opportunity, he leapt away and let the powerful jaws snap shut with a very loud crack. Thousands of pounds of biting pressure sealed away behind his skull in his neck and yet, his partner was struggling at the moment. Just as he had hoped, the giant wings made it hard for him to get upright again.

"Just settle down, would you?" Steve inhaled deeply, still blinking away stars. He glanced at his bloodied feet and briefly wondered what damage his partner's bite could cause. If an alligator could shatter a leg, his partner would take it clean off.

Danny maneuvered one wing out of the way enough that he could get on his side. Pupils still slit to nearly nonexistence, he glared at Steve and bit down on a hunk of deadfall that littered the jungle floor.

He frowned. "What are you-"

His eyes widened and he jumped at him, pressing his head to the ground. Danny's wing popped open with such a force that when it hit him in the jaw and neck it sent him sprawling sideways.

Pain. Hot, fiery pain. Too much, he'd done too much. His shoulder and chest pulsated with a throbbing staccato rhythm. He could barely get enough air into his lungs between that and the freshly busted ribs.

He had been trained to fight in dragon form. Of course, he couldn't practice with many types outside of Arboreals, Amphibians, and Drakes. They had said that their training would prep them for combat with any type of dragon. They lied. Danny was beating the snot out of him.

Smoke. He could smell smoke.

"Danny, no, don't do it!" he stood up, limping to keep his weight off his right foreleg.

Smoke poured out of Danny's nostrils and mouth as he parted his jaws. A cloud of ashes and embers billowed out at him.

A torrent of fire burning him. Scorching his scales. Searing his flesh.

He shook his head and backed away. No. Not a torrent. This was different. Danny wasn't the Wyvern. Danny had saved him, protected him from being burned to death back in the warehouse. Danny wasn't the monster. Danny, he was….

He was trying to burn him now.

He was right. He wouldn't be there to save him this time. This time, it was Steve that had to save him.

Embers left tiny pinpricks of pain in their wake as he navigated around his partner. He coughed, each shuddering breath jarring his ribs. This was why he needed to know what kind of dragon he was, what he could do. Anything would be helpful at this point. Cliffs were so rare that there was practically zip known about them.

Steve darted behind a tree to avoid another flurry of hot ashes and glowing embers. He was starting to think the real weapon was the smoke. He was nearly choking on it.

A few embers drifted by. At least the recent rains had made the ground so sodden it wouldn't catch fire. It had waterlogged the trees, too, making their branches heavy.

A lightbulb lit up. He slightly nudged the one he was behind. Dead. Loose roots.

Now that was a thought.

Still coughing on the pungent smoke, he inhaled and yelled, "Danny, are you going to cool it, or am I going to have to make you?"

He wasn't sure if the grumble that he received was a chortle or a growl, but whatever it was gave him zero confidence that his partner would calm down on his own.

"Sorry, partner," he rammed his uninjured shoulder into the precarious tree.

It creaked and tipped to the side an inch.

He hit it again, using all of his body weight this time.

It groaned and pitched forward.

There was a yelp as it crashed to the ground.

Steve slipped between two live trees. The big dead one had done what he wanted it to. Its boughs pinned his partner to the ground like a net over a bird. Carefully, he stepped on top of him as well, hoping the combined weight would be enough to keep him down.

"Relax," he placed his foot on top of his partner's head, keeping him from biting through the branches.

"Steve?"

He glanced up at Kono. She approached slowly from the direction of the vehicles.

He jerked his head for her to move faster. "I don't know how long I can keep him down."

Kono jogged over. "Didn't know whether or not I needed to give you some backup with the way he was smoking you out."

Steve grimaced. "He's a scrapper."

"You mean you underestimated him," she kneeled on one of the boughs and pulled the cap off an intimidating needle.

Danny snarled at her, but Steve had him trapped good this time. She was able to get at his neck and slide the needle under his overlapping scales to inject the syringe full of reversals.

"Chin called, said they caught up to Marzullo while he was trying to head leeward," she sat back, ignoring the hissing being directed at her from her teammate. "He's in custody and ready to be grilled."

"Good," he exhaled heavily, coughing with a wince.

"You okay there? You don't look so good," she pointed at the blood trickling from his burns and at the claw marks marring his forelegs and abdomen.

"Like I said, he's scrappy."

She nodded, eyes sweeping up and down the trapped panting dragon. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Didn't know he was a Cliff," he said quietly. "Thought he was a Drake at first. And then the whole Wyvern thing happened and I found out he had wings, thought maybe he was Wyvern with a stoking chamber instead of the glands. Don't know why he didn't just tell me."

"You know how he is," she said. "He's worried about getting found out and something blowing back on Grace."

Blinking slowly, gears turning in his head, he looked back down at his partner. "Being a Cliff, I guess he has a right to be so nervous about poachers and trappers."

He could feel him shaking. His wings trembled, the muscles spasming and twitching.

Kono frowned. "How long does-"

"Not long," came the whispered response.

Steve sighed in relief. "Danny, you back with us, bud?"

"Maybe," he muttered. "My head hurts and your big duck feet standing on my back isn't helping."

"Sorry, man, but it was the only way to keep you down," Steve hesitantly stepped off of him, putting himself between his partner and Kono just in case there was a final flash of rage.

Instead, Danny dug his claws into the dirt and dragged himself out from under the boughs. Round pupils swiveled to look at them. He settled his gaze on the wounds he had inflicted on his partner.

"Steve, I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I didn't mean to, ah-"

"You were drugged and out of your mind, partner," Steve sat next to him and patted his shoulder. "It wasn't you."

"But I _remember_ doing it. I was right there, seeing it all happen," Danny squeezed his eyes shut. "Couldn't stop it. All I could see was your stupid face and I wanted to smash it."

"And bite it," he snorted.

Danny didn't laugh. He blew out a breath clouded with smoke. "I tried to burn you, didn't I?"

"It was all bark and no bite, bud."

"All you had to do was put a bullet-"

"No."

"Steven-"

"No. I don't care what you say, I would never put a bullet in you," he said sternly.

"But you would bite me."

"You were doing bastardized CPR on me, what did you want me to do?"

"I think you bruised me, you animal. It's goin' to look like I tried to hang myself."

"I dunno, you've got some tough scales there, Danny," Kono said.

"Felt like biting a pinecone," Steve agreed.

Danny's scales flared up, enhancing the pinecone imagery. He groaned and let them lay flat again. "I don't know about you, but I could use a shower and an all you can eat buffet."

"Yeah, me too."

"I'll go grab you two some clothes out of the car," Kono stood up and brushed the dirt off her pants. "How about after the hospital we get dinner at the Hilton Hawaiian Village? Chin's buying."

"Woah, hold up, does he know about this?" Danny asked, claws flicking out in an echo of his vivid hand gestures.

"Well, he's not here to say no."

"You're as bad as Steve, you know that, right?"

Kono and Steve both smirked.

* * *

 **Well. What'd you think? Was it worth the wait?**

 **Comment or PM to see Danny's dragon reference sheet. Also, guys, if you're commenting as guests, I can't send you the link to the artwork. I have to send it through the PM system because the site won't let me put a link in the Author's Note. Sorry.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", the repercussions of shifting and being drugged bite Danny in the butt, and then Steve ponders just how dense he was to not notice his partner was a Cliff.**

 **Thanks for reading, and don't be strangers with suggesting ideas, prompts, facts, characters, or whatever!**


	23. Fact 22

**Almost forgot it was Tuesday! This one was sparked by a conversation I had with Irene Claire, so thank you for getting the gears in my mind going! All of you reviewers have been helpful when it comes to these chapters and ideas.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #22: Shifting is not without cost.**

 **Season: Early-mid Season 3**

He hurt. His brawl with Steve the day before had been hard on him. His muscles were stiff and his knee was a bit inflamed from using it without restraint. The talon marks on his back stung from the scabs getting pulled. But most of all, what really bugged him, was the fact that there were splashes of purple and red around his neck. Luckily, the bruising was just on the sides and could be hidden by the collar of his shirt fairly well.

"I guess pinecone scales aren't as tough as I thought?"

He looked at Kono across the smart table. "Pinecone scales? Why does everyone always go with a pinecone to describe my scales? Myself included, because when I first shifted as a kid I thought I looked like a pinecone."

"Because they're tough and bristly, like you."

"Thank you. I'm so flattered that you think I have such a tough and bristly exterior."

"That's not what I meant. I meant that your scales are tough."

"And the bristly part?"

"Well, that may or may not be your personality."

"You are talking yourself into becoming the permanent fetcher of coffee and snacks, Miss Kalakaua. Keep going, maybe you'll be washing my car by the end of the day."

Kono held up her hands as she walked away. "I rest my case."

Danny shook his head slowly. He was sure that they all took their cues from Steve when it came to ruffling his feathers. At least the cousins didn't get under his skin like his partner did.

His phone went off just as said partner stalked into the bullpen.

"Hold on, this is Grace's school," he held up a finger to forestall whatever Steve was about to say.

He could feel his eyes on his back as he talked to the secretary. It was a short conversation.

"What's going on? Is Grace okay?" Steve asked once he hung up.

"Grace is fine, but I need to run down to the school," he said.

"Why?"

"Grace's class is going on a field trip this Friday to the museum and I'm chaperoning. The problem is that her teacher misplaced some of the permission slips for a few of the kids and they need them for their records, so I have to go down there and sign a new one."

Steve glanced at his watch. "Might as well take her out of class early. By time you get down there it'll almost be time for school to let out."

"Okay then, Boss, I'm clocking out early," he waved goodbye as he trekked out the doors.

"See you tomorrow, Danny."

* * *

The administration was a disaster as always. The parents to the other kids with the misplaced permission slips were crowded in the office, trying to get it all taken care of. That many people in an enclosed space? No, thanks, he'd wait in the relatively empty hallway.

Shifting his weight with a grimace, he thought that this was maybe for the better. He got to leave work early and there might be enough time for him to take Grace for an ice cream before he had to drop her off at Rachel's. It would probably spoil her supper, but he didn't care. Any extra minute he got with his daughter was a blessing even if he'd get yelled at by his ex-wife for it later.

A young boy that he recognized as being in Grace's class paused on the other side of the door to the office.

"Woah. There's a lot of people in there."

"Kind of reminds you of a bunch of sardines in a tin can, no?" Danny jerked a thumb towards them.

"Ew," the boy, whose name was Ethan if he remembered correctly, made a face. "All those little fish so close together give me the creepy crawlies."

He grinned at the overly expressed shiver Ethan did. "So, what'd you get sent down to the office for? Hit someone with a paper airplane? Or a hornet?"

"Dude, do you know how hard my mom would beat me if I got sent to the office for that?" Ethan said. "Tommy's the one always shooting hornets. I just got sent down here to give Miss Lee the attendance record because Mrs. Adams forgot to give it to her this morning."

He glanced back in the office where the exhausted Miss Lee stood trying to deal with the parents. Working in the school system wasn't an easy job. Long hours, bad pay, irritated kids and parents. He felt for her.

Actually, he felt a tad hot.

Three of the four parents streamed out of the office by them. Ethan muttered something along the lines of 'finally' and started to walk through the door, but stopped to give him a concerned look.

"You okay, Mister Williams?"

Danny nodded very subtly. A nauseas feeling settled, not in his gut, but at the base of his ribcage where the sudden wave of heat was originating from. "I'm fine, Ethan, go ahead and give your paper to Miss Lee."

Ethan disappeared into the office, slapped the attendance record on the desk where the secretary could see it, and hustled back out into the hallway.

He invaded Danny's personal bubble and whispered, "Dude, are you sure you're okay? You look like you're about to barf. I can go get the nurse."

"No, it's okay, I'm fine. I'm not going to puke. I haven't since before you were born," he assured him.

A tickle worked its way up his throat. He cupped his hand over his mouth and turned to cough. A tiny wisp of bitter smoke drifted away. That figured. He could never get sick in the comfort of his own home. And he had to have this problem in a school no less.

Ethan looked gob smacked when he faced him again. "Was that smoke?"

"No. Isn't Mrs. Adams going to start wondering where you are?" he flicked his hand down the hallway in the direction from which he had come.

"I'm fine. We get out in, like, ten minutes anyways," Ethan brushed him off. "That was smoke, wasn't it? Are you a…no, wait. Mom and Mrs. Adams said it's not okay to ask that."

Danny looked both ways down the hallway and back over his shoulder in the office before leaning over and quietly answering him. "Ethan, I'm glad that you remember what your mom and teacher taught you. It's not polite to ask that of someone."

"Sorry," Ethan examined the floor and his shoes intently. "I won't say anything to anyone. I swear it."

"I'm sure you won't," he sighed and could have smacked himself in the forehead as another tendril of smoke came out of his mouth. "I may be able to do a few party tricks with some smoke and fire, but that's pretty much all I'm good for. So don't go and start spreading insane rumors about me, because I know where you go to school."

"Yes, Mister Williams," Ethan's head popped up and he saluted him, smiling great big. "That's so cool!"

"Yeah, yeah. Now, get your butt back to class and tell Mrs. Adams that I'm here to pick up Grace."

"Got it."

As the young boy walked back to the classroom, he wondered if he had just made a mistake. However, he knew that Ethan wasn't Tommy. Now, if it had been Tommy he would have had a worse problem than he already did.

"Mister Williams?"

He turned towards the office and Miss Lee. She was holding a permission slip. Walking inside, he hoped and prayed he would make it through the next few minutes.

* * *

"Danno, are you feeling okay?"

Over the years he had obviously lost his ability to pull off a believable poker face when it came to being sick. That, or only children could see through the mask. And yes, he was counting his partner as one of the children that could do that.

"I'm fine, Monkey, just sort of hot and sweaty," he said.

Grace looked at the vents channeling the cool air and then back at him. "You sure you're not sick?"

To lie or not to lie, that was his dilemma.

"Because Ethan told me that you were kind of sick."

Traitor.

He allowed himself to exhale deeply and let smoke he'd been trying to hold back swirl away in lazy curls. "You remember when I ate that rotten piece of bark back home in Jersey that one time?"

"Kind of."

"Well, that's what's going on right now. My stoking chamber is upset," he explained.

"Oh. What'd you eat?"

A piece of deadfall off the ground. A handful of leaves. He had tried to take a chunk out of his partner. He knew the exact reason why it was acting up now, but didn't want to tell Grace about his reckless shifting yesterday or that he had tried to kill her Uncle Steve.

"I don't know. Something that didn't agree with me," he swallowed thickly. More smoke slithered out his nostrils. This wasn't the worst part, though. Oh no. The old adage was right: where there was smoke there was fire, and he could feel the burn.

"You know, you don't have to worry about Ethan," Grace said, catching him off guard.

"What? Who said I was worried about Ethan? Should I be worried about Ethan?"

"No. He won't tell anyone that you were sick or that you're a dragon. He's a mixed blood like me."

"How do you know that? Does he know you're a mixed blood?" he shot her an apprehensive look across the car. Number one fear, right there. Someone knew that his daughter had Cliff dragon in her blood.

"He doesn't know I'm one."

He breathed out a sigh of relief tinged with smoke.

"Earlier in the year, we were playing around on the jungle gym outside and he fell off the swing and when I went over to see if he was okay he had scales on his arms because he didn't want to get scraped up when he fell and he told me not to tell anyone so I promised I wouldn't."

She managed to say that all in almost one breath. She was for sure his daughter. He wanted to congratulate her on keeping her heritage a secret and for being kind to Ethan, but a rising ill feeling stopped him cold. There was no way he was going to be able to keep the contents of his stoking chamber down for as long as it would take to get to either his or Rachel's place.

Keeping as calm as he could manage, he said, "Grace, can you call your Uncle Steve and ask if we can hang out at his place for a while?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," she eyed him as she pulled her phone out of her backpack. She kept her eyes on him while it rang. "Hey, Uncle Steve. Danno's sick."

* * *

Apparently, the words 'Danno's sick' could summon a Navy SEAL in record time. He was sure that they had been closer to Steve's house than the Five-0 offices were. When a dark blue Silverado pulled into the driveway barely a minute after they had, he wondered if his partner had misinterpreted the words 'Danno's sick' to 'Danno's dying'.

Which, if he was completely honest with himself, felt closer to the truth.

Steve stayed with Grace in the kitchen while he made a straight line for the firepit in the backyard. He didn't count this as vomiting. That had to come from his stomach and had to consist of food, drink, or bile. This was molten and burning as he heaved. And heaved. And heaved.

Finally, the spasms ceased. Making a calculated move, he sat down in one of the lawn chairs.

"Hey."

He glanced up at Steve. He was holding out a bottle of water to him.

"Thanks," he accepted it and unscrewed the lid. The cold water running down his throat sharply contrasted with his elevated internal temperature, but it felt so wonderful it was hard to not just chug it. He set the half-drank bottle on the arm of the chair. "Sorry to invade your place like this, but I didn't think I was going to be able to hold out until I got home. And I didn't want Grace to see me like this."

"You don't want her to know that her dad is mortal?" Steve sat in the chair opposite of him across the firepit.

"She thinks that I can do anything and everything, that I'm bulletproof," he weakly gestured to the house. "One day, something's going to happen and she's going to realize that I'm not as indestructible as she thought."

"She does realize you've been shot before, right?"

"Yes, she knows I've been shot before. And she's amazingly calm whenever I come home from work injured or when she has to come visit me in the hospital. Luckily, thus far I have been awake while she's come to visit me instead of in a coma or intubated."

"Danny, I think that she realizes you're not made of steel, but loves you because you still do your job despite that," Steve mimicked his gesture to the house.

The flash of white bandages on his forearms pulled Danny's attention in another direction. "How're you feeling?"

"I've hurt myself worse working on the Marquis," Steve shrugged. A grimace passed over his face. It was brief, but it was there.

"I think that piece of junk has it out for you, you know that, right?" he said.

A cramp dug its claws in and drug them up his stomach and chest. The constant smolder in his stoking chamber roared into an inferno again and surged upwards. He crumpled over.

Caustic smoke rolled through his sinuses. A few embers floated to the ground along with the gooey molten slag.

"Is this a fire breather flu again?"

Danny spit and shook his head. "No. It's from yesterday. I let some ashes and rocks sit in my stoking chamber instead of burning them off. The fact that I was heavily drugged not even twenty-four hours ago probably isn't helping."

"You know, you can always come over here if you need to shift or burn off something or whatever," Steve said.

"I hope you know that I truly do appreciate that you've opened up your house to me, but I just didn't want to be around you after that whole debacle yesterday."

Steve looked slightly hurt. "Why?"

"Don't look like I just kicked your puppy. It wasn't you, it was me," he snorted. "I was afraid that maybe, just maybe, the drugs hadn't been fully reversed and that I would attack you again."

"Bud, I was trained to subdue raging dragons."

He outright laughed and then wished he hadn't as another cramp gripped him. Breathing through the pain, he said, "I don't remember all of it, but I was pretty sure I had you hiding behind trees at one point."

"It was a tactical advantage."

"It was hiding."

Steve sat back in his chair and propped one foot up on his knee. "Which museum is Grace's class going to on Friday?"

"Bishop Museum. The kids are going there in the morning and taking pack lunches. Grace is pretty excited. Was she hungry?"

Steve nodded and then wouldn't meet his eyes. "Yeah, so I gave her a snack. And a bottle of water."

Suspicious. Danny held one hand out imploringly. "What'd you give her?"

"What she wanted."

"And what did she want?"

"Ice cream."

"Steven!"

"Take it easy, bud, there wasn't much left. Maybe a scoop."

He would have to take him at his word since he was too busy getting ready to hurl again. Hot, slimy goo slid over his partially shifted tongue. The glowing molten slag was getting less and less each time he heaved, so he had probably cleared out his chamber for the most part. It would settle down once it was empty.

"Have you eaten enough today?"

"Hmm?" he looked at his partner quizzically.

"Have you eaten enough?"

"I'm going to assume that a slice of toast at breakfast isn't going to qualify as enough."

"Jeez, Danny, no wonder you're about to keel over. With as much energy as you burned shifting and then fighting me yesterday, you needed to have eaten more."

"I did eat. I ate a lot at the Hilton last night. If you somehow failed to see it, I had four plates stacked high with things that will probably give me a heart attack later in life if you fail to kill me first."

"You're going to kill yourself before you let me have a chance if you do this too often. I ate as much as you and then I ate more this morning and afternoon."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that you were my nutritionist and - hey, where are you going?" Danny questioned as his partner got up from his chair and walked back towards the house.

"I'm making peanut butter banana sandwiches and slicing up an apple."

"I'm not a kid, Steven, I don't need you to baby me," he said before he stepped through the lanai doors.

Not five minutes later, his partner and his daughter both appeared in the backyard. If it had just been Steve he would have whined at him for forcing him to eat, but with Grace there holding a plate of peanut butter banana sandwiches he didn't have the heart.

"Thank you, Monkey," he took the plate and covertly glared at his partner.

"Mom called, so Uncle Steve is going to run me home," she said.

Reconsidering his glare, he instead gave him a grateful look before looking at his daughter again. "You have a goodnight, baby. I'll see you on Friday when we go to the museum, okay?"

Grace gave him a gentle hug and kissed his temple. "Love you, Danno. Feel better."

"I love you, too," he smiled softly. "Steve, drive the speed limit."

"It's like he doesn't trust me, Grace," Steve complained not so quietly to her. "Okay, I'll be back after a while. Don't up and leave."

"Whatever you say, nurse," he didn't think he could drive anyway. He may have been doomed to stay the night. As they walked away, he called after them, "Thanks, Steve."

"No problem. And buddy? Don't set my yard on fire."

He waited a few beats before answering, "I can't promise that."

* * *

 **Poor Danny. Gets the short end of the stick a lot. ;)**

 **Thursday on "Dragons", Steve takes a moment to ponder just how thick he was to miss that his partner is a Cliff.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing! And remember to mention any ideas, prompts, facts, questions, situations, or characters you'd like to see! Also, keep in mind that I'm always 5-10 chapters ahead of what I'm posting so suggested ideas may take a while to show up.**


	24. Fact 23

**A reflective chapter. Also, an adjustment with the links at the bottom.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #23: Dragons and dragon types aren't easy to suss out, even to those who should know better.**

 **Season: Early-mid Season 3**

He peeled off his shirt, careful of the bandages on his burns. Once he was settled into bed and had the light turned off, he found himself staring at the ceiling wondering just how dense he was.

Two and a half years. That's how long he had been partners with Danny. Throughout that time he had gotten to know the Jersey transplant well, but apparently not as well as he thought. Looking back on it now, he could see the clues and signs that should have led him to realizing his partner's type. How, or why, he had ignored them was a mystery.

* * *

 _2010…._

"Only you, Danny, only you would complain about having clear visibility."

"I disagree, Steven, lots of people like the city."

"Do they like getting all of their minerals in one breath, too?"

"Did you hear me say that I like the smog of the city? No? Because that's not what I said. I said that I miss the layout. I miss the tall skyscrapers and the fact that there is a sandwich shop on every corner where you can get a decent hoagie or a Rueben. Or the pizza places where they serve real pizza, not this junk with fruit all over it."

"Seriously, do you even realize how much of your life revolves around food?"

"A man tends to think about food a lot when all of the sudden almost his entire diet changes from what he's grown up with to island food covered in pineapple!"

"Besides the food, what do you miss about home? Really?"

"Other than my family and my old precinct where I had a partner that didn't insist they were Rambo? I told you. I miss the big buildings."

"There're skyscrapers in Honolulu."

"It's not the same. You see, where I come from, it's not just a bunch of lone buildings. They're all packed together."

"Sounds claustrophobic."

"It's not."

* * *

 _Present…._

Steve had heard the whispers and read the scant amount of information that there was on Cliffs. Of course, anything to do with dragons was superficial and assumed a lot unless actual members of that type had been consulted and even then, like with humans, it varied from person to person.

The general rule of thumb was that Arboreals liked the forests and jungles where they could climb. While he was a crossbreed, he did enjoy being out in Hawaii's nature where he could free climb. However, he also knew an Arboreal that trained alongside him as a Navy SEAL that preferred the flat, hot landscape of Arizona.

With that in mind, he wondered how much of the bits and pieces he knew of Cliffs applied to his partner.

The skyscraper thing almost made sense, now that he was thinking about it. It was said that Cliffs were at home in canyons. One of the most famous ancient Cliff skeletons discovered was found at the base of the Grand Canyon. Tightly packed skyscrapers and other buildings crisscrossed by streets were basically concrete canyons.

If the canyon thing was true, then maybe the rock climbing thing was, too.

* * *

 _2011…._

Steve's muscles were taut as he watched his partner clamber down the cliff face to untangle the rope. He could feel the moist winds sweeping off the rainclouds and hear the approaching rumble of thunder. This entire area was going to turn into a mudslide when it started raining.

"I'm not catching your ass if you fall," he called up at him.

"I'd rather you not catch me," the snipped reply came back.

All he could see was his partner coming crashing down onto the ledge and Steve, being the Navy SEAL he was, would try and catch him. Knowing their luck, they'd both go over the edge and pull a vanishing act. Fat lot of good the rescue chopper would do then. It'd be a recovery mission, not a rescue.

His fear almost came to fruition when one of the rocks where he had slipped gave way under Danny's foot. It bounced down the cliff and shot off the ledge just to the right of him into the trees below.

"Danny!"

His partner cursed, but didn't wind up joining him in a heap. He was at a bad angle to see what had saved him until he resumed his trek to the dead tree where the rope had tangled.

"You sure you've never rock climbed before?" he asked.

The claws on the tips of his partner's fingers dug into the cracks and locked in like anchors. Perfect for climbing. His hardy scales would keep him from getting blisters, too.

"When I was in high school at the rec center, sure. But I don't do this kind of stuff that you extreme people like to do. I'd rather stay living and breathing and not horribly injured, thank you," Danny grunted as he loosened the rope from around the tree and sent the slack down.

"I know some nice easy spots we could go."

"I've had enough excitement with rock climbing today to last me a life time. Now hurry up before I get struck by lightning or something."

He tied the rope off on his harness and shook his head. His partner had probably had enough hiking to last a life time, too, after today.

* * *

 _Present…._

Steve tucked one arm behind his head as he recalled that particular case. He'd forgive himself on that one. Partially shifted claws weren't very reliable when it came to judging types. Danny's claws and scales had always seemed Drake to him. Tough, durable, and fireproof.

He would have to see if he could convince him to go rock climbing. Being an Arboreal crossbreed, he wanted to see if his climbing skills matched those of a Cliff. Danny certainly seemed equipped for climbing canyon walls. If he had been paying attention he may have put those two together sooner, but then again Wyverns and Drakes were known to be drawn to canyons and rocky cliffs as well.

But there was one thing he felt he needed to smack himself in the forehead over.

* * *

 _2011…._

He was freaking out. His partner couldn't breathe. Danny couldn't breathe. His lips were taking on a blue tinge and he was gasping. On a human being or even on a dragon, that was terrifying. Not being able to breathe would send even the toughest person into a panic.

But his partner was a fire breather. A stoking class fire breather.

Stokers were notorious for being oxygen greedy people. Even without stoking they inhaled more oxygen than the average person. Their blood could carry more oxygen. Their lungs were efficient at pulling it out of the air.

And Danny couldn't breathe.

Never before had he felt so undereducated as his partner was whisked away into the ER. What would not getting enough oxygen do to a fire breather? Could that cause permanent damage? What if it screwed up his ability to stoke a fire?

He didn't know. He didn't. And if Danny didn't pull through, he may never know.

* * *

 _Present…._

That had been scary. Just downright nerve wracking. For weeks after that, every time he heard Danny cough or take a deep breath, his mind flashed back to him convulsing out in front of that house.

Steve rubbed his hands down his face and inhaled slowly. His partner had survived that ordeal. Jenna, though she had turned traitor later, had saved him by identifying the sarin in a timely manner.

What he had missed was the stoking chamber. Danny was right. He was a Neanderthal. What types had been recorded as having a stoking chamber? There were three types that could be identified as fire breathers, those being Wyverns, Cliffs, and Drakes.

Wyverns, as their recent encounter with an outstanding specimen of one had shown, were firebugs. Almost every, as far as he knew, one of them could breathe fire. Instead of having a stoking chamber they used chemicals such as glycerin and potassium permanganate. There were a few other chemical based methods that had been discovered, but that was the main one.

Drakes for the most part did not breathe fire. Every once in a while, there would be an individual that could. When they did breathe fire, it was with a stoking chamber. They seemed to do more smoking than fire breathing, though.

Cliffs were the only known, or the only estimated, type to exclusively use a stoking chamber and for that trait to be common amongst the scarce few that made up their population. No one really knew how many Cliffs were alive in their modern day, but it didn't seem like many. They were at the top of the charts for rareness.

How he hadn't even considered his partner being a Cliff with the love of canyon like cities, claws meant for holding onto rocks for dear life, and the stoking chamber, he would never know. That wasn't even considering the other things that should have tipped him off.

* * *

 _2011…._

When Max and Steve descended into the lava tube, he chalked his partner's nervousness about being in the old bunker up to Danny being himself. Besides, the last time they had been underground in lava tubes they had been chasing a suspect and part of a tunnel had collapsed. He was probably just antsy because of that.

It still boggled him how his partner could feel so at home amongst skyscrapers, which was claustrophobic to him, yet be so rife with anxiety about going into a relatively stable bunker and lava tube, which was definitely not as claustrophobic to him. They even had lots of people around this time in case something happened.

* * *

 _Present…._

Wings. That's why Danny was anxious around tunnels and caves and enclosed spaces. He had wings.

Steve sighed quietly to himself. A guilty feeling pricked at him for forcing him into tight spaces like that. He had come to expect the complaints and the moaning and the whining from his partner and had pretty much learned to ignore it for the most part. And Danny had always soldiered on as his backup despite that.

There were stories, some were myths and legends and others were true, about how dragons with wings were claustrophobic. Of course, that again came down to personality and varied from person to person just like anything else. But, it seemed that this one particular notion was more true than false.

How many other things had he missed?

* * *

 _2012…._

This is what he was built for. Powering through the waves, tugging the dinghy behind him. Pure Amphibious dragons may have had flatter tails like eels and fully webbed feet, but he was a Navy SEAL Amphibious/Arboreal crossbreed. And he loved the water.

His partner, not so much.

"What if a storm moves in?"

Steve eyed the clear blue sky above them and came to a halt, bobbing in the gently rolling ocean. "A storm's not going to move in."

"I've heard that huge rainstorms can just appear out in the ocean," Danny flung a hand out at the horizon. "That they can move in without warning and stir up the water and sink boats. If it starts raining, this boat, sorry, this dinghy, is going to sink."

Please give him strength to deal with his partner. "Danny, I know these waters. It's not going to start raining. We'll make it back to land before any type of storm moves in, okay?"

Danny reluctantly nodded and Steve sighed gratefully. Maybe he would get some quiet now. There had been a constant drone of worries and complaints since he had started towing them back towards shore.

"What if a shark shows up?"

"Danny," he pivoted to face him. The saltwater buoyed him up and he used his gliding wings as rudders to steer and keep him balanced now that he wasn't moving. "Do I look like I care if a shark shows up?"

"Hey, you may be a sea monster, but a shark could still take a chunk out of you and when that happens, don't come crying to me."

"If you're so worried about a shark showing up, why don't you shift and get in the water? Two big predators would send the signal not to come too close."

"Huh uh, no way. I am not getting in the water. You can continue to practice your little tug boat routine by yourself."

"It's just water, Danny! Water. It makes up over seventy percent of human and dragon bodies."

"Maybe that's why I don't like people."

"Why do you hate the ocean so much?"

"I used to love the ocean."

* * *

 _Present…._

Steve sat up on his bed and swung his legs over the side. He scrubbed a hand through his hair as he got up. The reason why Danny didn't like the ocean anymore was one he understood, and was one that didn't have much to do with his dragon type. All dragons could swim. Some were just more adapted to it than others. He wasn't sure why that incident had come to mind.

He, however, was glad that he had listened to his partner and friend and that said friend had opened up about a part of his life before Hawaii. It had nothing to do with food or police procedure, but it was an intimate detail that explained so much to him in that moment.

So he had learned not to pressure Danny into the water. His partner was working through that and was doing well. Kono had taught him to surf, he played with them in the shallows, it was a miracle he had even gone fishing with him that day.

Then during that whole bomb scare he had told him about his old partner and his daughter's namesake. Bit by bit, he was opening up.

Steve treaded down the stairs softly. Danny was fast asleep on his couch. As he had put it, his recent bout of clearing out his stoking chamber had doomed him to stay the night. By time he had gotten back from running Grace home, his partner was no longer nauseas but was weak and exhausted. He barely even argued with him when he told him to bunk there for the night.

Feeling awkward staring at his partner and worrying that he might feel his eyes on him and wake up, he turned to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

After drinking a glass he wasn't really thirsty for, he gave Danny one last look before returning upstairs. Bit by bit, his partner was opening up to him, but he had a feeling that the drug induced outburst and the revelation it caused yesterday was not going to break him wide open. It was going to take time.

And this time, this time Steve wasn't going to be so dense when it came to his partner.

* * *

 **Two artworks of a sort of guide to the dragon types. More will be following in the next few weeks.**

 **Okay, so I made an adjustment to where all the reference sheets and other art are grouped together in one area that I can update when need be without having to constantly give out new links. So, comment (remember that if you're commenting as a guest I can't send the link to you) or PM me for the new link. Once you have this link you shouldn't need to get another one from me, I'll just leave a comment in the author's note saying it's been updated.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", Steve tags along with Danny and Grace to the Bishop Museum on the field trip. Then we learn that the internet really shouldn't be trusted when it comes to dragons.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	25. Fact 24

**Found out that mo'o stands for more than reptile in Hawaiian. Apparently there are creatures called Mo'o that are known to shape shift and one of their forms is, you guessed it, a dragon. Cool, right?**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #24: Dragons often get their own wings at museums.**

 **Season: Early-mid Season 3**

After staring a moment longer at the display of teeth, Steve took three long strides to catch up to the fifth grade class being led through the exhibits at the Bishop Museum. They were in the Mo'o Hall on a field trip with Grace. He didn't quite remember the finer details of how he came to be there as a chaperone along with Danny, but he was sure that he had been invited by Grace and had inadvertently said yes when he had been taking her home two days ago when her dad was sick.

His partner, who looked phenomenally better, was holding hands with his daughter. His shoulders were looser than he had seen them in a while and a small grin stayed on his face while Grace pointed at things. Steve smirked. It was nice to see him relatively relaxed for once.

Though, the faint bruising visible just under the collar of his partner's shirt reminded him of a not so relaxed time three days ago. His own arms were crisscrossed with bandages that covered a few of the deeper wounds dealt by big, curved claws and he was still tender around his burns.

"I haven't been in this hall before," he said once he had stepped closer to his partner.

Danny nodded and waved a hand around at all the displays. "I'm not surprised. They just renovated. Gabby said that this whole hall has been several years in the making."

"We goin' to see her today?" he asked.

"No. She's busy with a project on the Big Island for a few days," Danny shrugged.

Steve glanced around at exhibits on either side of the brightly lit passageway, looking for something to change the subject from his partner's often gone girlfriend.

"Danno, look at that," Grace pulled him towards a glass case and Steve followed.

Other little kids crowded around the display. A few bumped into him and suddenly he felt like a giant with all the heads coming up to only just above his waist.

"These are footprints that were found where a lake existed long ago near the Hell Creek Formation in Montana," their guide, a young man by the name of David, patted the top of the hardy glass case. "We know that they belonged to a dragon because you can see five toe impressions, something you don't see on much of anything else during this time period."

One of the kids shot her hand up in the air, waving it madly.

"Madison, you have a question?" their teacher, Mrs. Adams, asked.

"How big was the dragon that made that footprint?" she asked.

"Good question," David's head bobbed in approval. "If you measure the distance between the front feet and back feet, and how far apart the steps are, we can guess that the dragon was around twenty-five feet long."

"Cool," a few of the kids chorused.

David led the group further down the passage they were exploring. Steve stared at the casts of the lakeshore footprints. The front one almost looked like a handprint, except for the size and obvious marks where the claws had sunk into the mud. The hind one was odd in that it, too, had five toe impressions. Most dragons held their hind fifth claw off the ground, except for Amphibians and Wyverns.

"Uncle Steve!"

"You're falling behind, slowpoke."

He looked up and jogged half the length of the passage to catch up to them. "That guy must've had some pretty big feet, huh, Grace?"

"All the better to smash you with," she giggled.

Danny eyed him.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Are you really going to start that again?" Danny raised his brows at him.

That was why he had picked him as his partner. His instincts were good. They were good and they had told him that he was trying to pick up the conversation they had started on their way to meet the bus at the museum. It was a conversation that had sort of went a different direction than what Steve had anticipated.

"Start what?"

"You know what. The thing that you've been pestering me with for three days."

"I'm just curious!"

"You know what they say about curiosity and the cat, right?"

"Everyone always forgets that satisfaction brought it back."

"Oh, so now you're an etymologist, huh? Fine, you do whatever you're going to do. I can't stop you, lord knows I've tried. But quit looking at me like I've sprouted a second head or something, okay? Can you do that?"

"Danno," Grace put her finger to her lips and shushed them.

Steve narrowed his eyes at his partner. It was irritating in the extreme. He thought that he was the man of mystery and intrigue on the team, but the tables had been flipped and unceremoniously dumped on his head in the last couple of weeks. And every time he tried to figure out more, he was blockaded, either by Danny himself or by teammates that wouldn't spill the beans on their friend.

He turned his attention to David, who was speaking.

"We're about to enter the main display room of the hall. Feel free to look around and to check out the sensory center where you can touch real dragon scales, dig for bones in our sandbox, and smell the rare herbs that are known to only be grown by dragons."

The group filtered out into the cavernous room and was awestruck. Steve had to admit that he felt like a kid again. The place was packed with all things dragon with a few dinosaurs thrown in, he guessed for size and build comparison. While most of the kids made beelines for the sensory center, Grace led him and Danny over to a life size diorama.

"That alligator's huge!" Grace leaned against the metal rails, trying to get a closer look.

"It says that this scene is based on a set of fossils found in New Jersey," Danny grinned at the mention of his home state, "and that they were found like this, as if they had died fighting. Gustav here is a Deinosuchus and the dragon is of unknown origin, like most dragon fossils discovered."

"Hey bud, that Deinosuchus has some serious armor," Steve pointed at the osteoderms plating its back and the scutes that ridged its tail.

"All the better to protect himself with. The poor guy had to have some defense against schmucks entering his life and messing up his usual routine," Danny gestured to the two prehistoric beasts.

Steve didn't miss the fact that the dragon vaguely looked like a thicker scaled Arboreal. "Enhancing. You mean enhancing."

"Enhancing? How can somebody strolling up to you while you're minding your own business and starting a fight with you be enhancing?"

"This guy was probably bored to death."

"I beg to differ. He was probably enjoying his life, basking in the sun on the edge of a river or lake and then had to deal with this putz."

"He was grateful for the change of pace."

Danny opened his mouth to retort, but Grace was already dragging him to another display. Steve trailed after them. They passed by a skeleton of a dragon that was partially shifted and another diorama of a dragon interacting with humans during the Ice Age. The one they stopped at was an upright display of claws.

"Look at that one, Uncle Steve," Grace pointed at one of the claws on the dinosaur side of the display.

"Utahraptor," he read off. The claw was impressive at almost nine inches long. He glanced at his partner. "It's got claws almost as big as yours."

Danny gave his fingernails a quick look and held one hand up with his fingers slightly curled. "All the better to slice and dice you with."

They both winced as soon as he had said it. Funny as it was, it was still a bit too soon.

Danny sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "Sorry."

Steve waved him off. "There wasn't so much slicing and dicing. More like flailing and failing."

"Really? I feel like it was you, my friend, that was flailing and failing, since you had to resort to biting," Danny lifted his chin and exposed the fading purple and slightly yellow marks on his throat.

"Danno says biting is fighting dirty," Grace concurred.

They looked at her and then shared an awkward look over her head.

"Just remember that, okay? You don't win fights with your fists, you win fights with your words and your brain, got it?" Danny lovingly tugged on one of her pigtails.

Grace nodded seriously. "But if someone starts a fight, I can finish it."

Steve snorted with laughter. That sounded like his partner alright. Danny rolled his eyes and suggested that they move on to something else. Grace slipped her small fingers in Steve's hand and led the pair of them over to the center of the room where the main exhibit was. It truly was the pièce de résistance of the hall.

"Woah," Danny's hands swept out to emphasize the size of the complete skeleton. "Forget you, babe, this guy is huge. I thought that you were tall, but this guy is a monster."

Steve utterly agreed. He prided himself on being a rather large crossbreed. It almost always gave him an advantage in a fight and added to his intimidation factor. This dragon, both in life and in death, made him look like a bug.

"This is Titan," Grace examined the plaque in front of the skeleton. "One of the largest complete dragon skeletons they've ever found."

"This guy's head is huge," Steve tilted his head to the side. He pointed. "Look at where the muscles would've attached to his lower jaw."

"All the better to grind your bones," Danny said softly.

"You might be able to take a limb off, but he would snap a tree in half," Steve walked under the ribcage on the path that wound through and around the skeleton. He cast his eyes up into the chest of the immense being. "Wonder if he had a stoking chamber."

"It says they didn't find any evidence of charring on the teeth," Grace was still standing reading the plaque while the two of them wandered around underneath it.

"Could you imagine this thing flying?" Steve said with a chuckle.

"It'd make a windstorm just trying to get up off the ground," Danny said. "Good thing it didn't have wings."

"It says that they think he lived along the coast and swam in the water," Grace said.

"Swimming beats flying any day," Steve smirked.

"I thought SEALs stood for Sea, Air, and Land?" Danny perked a brow at him.

"See, I knew that you always played dumb just to annoy me," he shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "While I know how to fly a plane and a helicopter, I'd rather be in the water. Nothing beats being in your element."

"I agree. Now you know why I miss home. This whole island thing was so ridiculous to get used to."

"It's paradise, what was so ridiculous?"

"First, this whole island time thing. Why can't anyone just be where they say they're going to be at the time they say they're going to be there?"

"It's because everyone here, unlike you, is chill."

Steve watched him closely for the silent few seconds that followed. The last time he had used chill in a sentence it had resulted in him almost getting mauled. However, Danny seemed disinterested in commenting on that and only gave him a dirty look while holding up a second finger.

"Second, everyone puts pineapple on everything. Hamburgers, hotdogs, chicken, salsa, ice cream, chocolate, smoothies, and the worst of all, pizza. I can hardly get a decent slice around here. Do you know how long it took me to find a place that can make a pie even anywhere close to what they do back home?"

"Notice how it's only you that dislikes pineapple that much?"

"That's not true. If I were to take a ham and pineapple pizza into my old precinct in New Jersey, I'd be arrested after they force fed it to the scum in lockup."

That was an exaggeration, he was sure. But it was entertaining to hear a full force rant for the first time in three days.

"And third?" he asked.

"Third, I never had to face as many dangers back home as I do here. It's like this island is trying to kill me off! Whether it's the people that live on it or the island itself, it's constantly trying to get rid of me."

"When has this island done that?"

"Let's see. The first day I met you I was shot. My ACL acted up again, which was something it hadn't done in years. A tsunami-"

"It was a fake tsunami."

"It sure felt real when the sirens went off, thank you very much. I had a curse put upon me by a homeless bum who broke both windshields on my car, I practically turned into a nomad after my apartment evicted everyone, I was infected with Black Dragon Eels, I had to invade North Korea to save your dumb hide before it got tanned, I was kidnapped by the CIA, I've been marooned in the ocean on a dinghy with you, had to chase down a fire breathing terror, I was almost scattered across a city block by a bomb, and most recently I was drugged. Need I go on?"

"No, I think you've pretty much covered it."

"And all of that is just what's happened since I was hijacked into being your partner. That doesn't even include what happened when I was still with HPD."

Steve's brows went up. "What happened when you were with HPD?"

"Now you're interested in my past? Now you want to know?"

"I've always been interested, but for all the talking you do you never tell me anything."

"I tell you a lot of things, but you never listen to me! It goes in one ear and out the other. If you had been paying attention to me then you may know what happened while I was with HPD. I thought someone that worked with intel would be a better listener? It's not like you're exactly an open book with your past."

"I'm bound to national security, Danny. I _can't_ tell you what I've done, the things I've seen."

"I know, you're Mister Classified, so full of secrets and intrigue that us mortals must seem incredibly boring to you."

"Mister Classified, full of secrets and intrigue? This is coming from the guy who took almost two and a half years to finally show me what he is," he kept his voice low so he didn't draw unwanted attention. "And it was under duress. You were so drugged you literally couldn't stop yourself."

"Why is this such an issue for you?" Danny pressed his palms together pleadingly. "Why are you so hung up on this?"

Steve swallowed, now feeling unsure why it bothered him so much. "You let Chin see you."

"Again, under duress."

"And Kono apparently figured it out."

"She's smart. Are you mad because Chin wouldn't tell you anything? Look, I made him swear, okay? He's got a code that it's none of his business to tell anyone anything, because he's a good man like that. Is that part of it, huh?"

"It's like you don't trust me," he said, finally putting his finger on it. Over two years and his partner didn't trust him enough to let him in on his secret. "And it kind of hurts, man."

Danny went very quiet and very still. His ever moving hands tucked under his arms as he crossed them over his chest and pensively gazed around the massive legbones on either side of them.

Steve observed the kids darting around the exhibits and displays. Grace was absorbed in the plaque and was talking animatedly to two of her friends that had walked over. She used hand gestures just like her father. His lips quirked upwards a little.

"I'm sorry."

He snapped his attention back to his partner.

"I'm sorry that you think I don't trust you," Danny worried his bottom lip and shifted his weight around on his feet. "Because despite all of the boneheaded things you do, I trust you with my life."

"So why…?"

"Like I told you before," Danny swiveled to look at his daughter. "It's to protect her."

Steve sighed. He already knew that was the major reason why. Even a mixed blood with Cliff lineage was a target for poachers and trappers for the same reason that snow leopards and pandas were: they were rare. He understood Danny's need to remain unknown.

"Tell you what, you overly sensitive Neanderthal."

He looked up and caught his eye.

"I'll let you have a free question each day, and I'll actually answer it. I can't go showing off my handsome alter ego just because you're curious, but I can at least let you try to get to know me like you've let me get to know the unclassified part of your life. God help me."

"Really? One free question each day?" Steve perked up.

"One."

"Guess I'll have to make them count."

Danny flashed him a grin and walked back over to Grace, who immediately included him in on the conversation she was having about over how awesome it would have been to see a dragon as big as Titan was. Steve was also immediately roped in once he was close enough to them.

"Danno, Uncle Steve should come on the Aloha Girls camping trip next month," Grace said.

"Yeah, that would be cool," one of her friends, Lucy maybe, agreed.

"I don't know, Monkey, he may have other plans and not want to spend his weekend with a gaggle of ten year old girls," Danny said.

"I could teach them survival skills. It might be fun," Steve said. The girls already seemed on board, and when that happened there was typically little arguing to be done.

"We'll have to ask Madeline if it's okay," Danny caved.

Grace and Lucy high fived.

The rest of the morning they meandered around the Mo'o Hall with the girls. At one point there was a short movie about dragons and how they had existed down through the millions of years without changing very much. All throughout that time, Steve pondered his first question carefully. Of course, he'd much rather just be shown rather than be told, but he'd settle for what he could get at the moment.

It wasn't until they were exiting the hall to go eat lunch and they passed by a display of wings did he know what he wanted to ask.

"Arboreals only have gliding wings," he started, making sure to word it carefully. He wouldn't put it past Danny to say that a question not pertaining to what he actually wanted to ask was his one question for the day. Like some kind of genie.

"I'm so glad you noticed that," Danny nodded indulgently.

Steve frowned, but continued. "Arboreals have to jump from high areas to stay in the air for any amount of time."

Another indulgent nod.

"Wyverns and Cliffs are the only two known types to have powered flight."

"I feel like you're actually asking more than one question, but I'll let that slide since this is the first day."

"What does it feel like to fly?"

It was the question of a small child, he knew. But he had always wondered what natural flight felt like. Gliding off a cliff and catching the air currents was amazing. How much more so would being able to touch the clouds without the aid of an engine.

Danny stuffed his hands in his pockets and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know."

Steve made a sound of annoyance. "Come on, man, is it always going to be like this? I ask you a question and you just go, 'I don't know'?"

"No. I just…I don't know."

"I thought you of all people, you with your huge vocabulary would be able to describe it better than, 'I don't know'."

"Steven, I don't know because I can't fly."

"What? Of course you can."

"No. I can't."

One look at the serious and slightly embarrassed expression on his partner's face confirmed it. Steve's eyes widened and he watched his back as he walked ahead to catch up to Grace. That wasn't an answer he was expecting.

Danny couldn't fly.

* * *

 **Whoops. It's not a red herring, I promise. I address it later.**

 **New art has been added, just a sketch of Titan's skull, so check out that link I gave out last week. Note to reviewer amberplant33, I can't send you the link unless your PMs are turned on. If you still need the master link to all the art, comment or PM me!**

 **Thursday on "Dragons", we learn not to trust everything the internet says about dragons, or Danny has a nightmare and Grace runs in to check on him. I'm having a small editing/posting crisis, so it'll either be one or the other.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	26. Fact 25

**A smaller chapter. Thank you all so much for the reviews!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #25: Nightmares are something no being, man or dragon, can escape.**

 **Season: Early-mid Season 3**

One more chapter and then she would be done with her book. It was well after midnight, but it wasn't a school night so she didn't care. Her dad had work off tomorrow and they both liked to sleep in. Reading by flashlight instead of the lamp on the nightstand was kind of thrilling, anyway.

Grace glanced up as she heard a thump.

"Danno?"

Swallowing, because what if it was a burglar and not her dad, she slid out of her covers and let her flashlight guide her into the hallway. It sounded like the thump had come from her dad's room. Maybe he was getting up to go pee.

She peeked around the door just to make sure. Her eyes widened.

* * *

 _The soft flesh gave way under his monstrous teeth, the curved lower canines piercing and slicing through the tender throat muscles. Claws raked down his face. He clamped one set of claws around his narrow snout and used the other set to pin the flailing foot, ignoring the hind feet that kicked at his flank and letting his hardened scales deflect the impacts. He yanked his head upwards._

 _All movement ceased abruptly. The gurgling stopped. Blood freely oozed from the now visible interior of the throat. His head flopped on the underbrush of the jungle floor, his tongue limply dangling from his jaws and his eyes partially closing with a dead stare. Limbs went still and his tail reflexively curled one last time._

 _Then the stench of blood and gore hit him._

 _Danny shook his head as the red haze lifted and left him with a feeling like someone had scooped out his soul and nestled themselves inside while he was forced to watch. His heart thudded hollowly as realization dawned on him what had happened._

 _No, no, no, no. The Neanderthal was supposed to use his ninja skills to hold him off long enough._

" _Steve?"_

 _He scarcely could recognize his voice. He did, however, recognize the metallic tang on his tongue. Stumbling backwards and gagging, he looked to his friend again with panic rising in his chest. It was blood that coated his face and overwhelmed his mouth with its taste. Steve's blood. Lots of blood. Too much blood._

" _Steve! Oh my god, Steve, please don't be dead, please…."_

 _His throat was torn open, moron, of course he was dead. That fact swept an icy chill down Danny's body. Chin and Kono were going to hate him. They were going to find him up here covered in their friend's blood and they were going to have to put him down. Put him down like Steve had refused to. If he would have just put a bullet in him sooner, he would still be alive._

 _His wings sprung open. He had to get away. There was no way in heaven or on earth that he could face the cousins. No way he could stand there while they mourned Steve's death._

 _No way he could ever look his daughter in the eyes again._

" _Over here!"_

 _They were coming. Their shouts and the pounding of boots on the ground surrounded him. They were going to find out the gruesome truth sooner rather than later._

 _He flapped his wings downward, hefting himself into the air. Pure fear and pain and adrenaline and guilt and sorrow pushed him higher above the trees in an unsteady climb, pushed him into escaping an inescapable fate._

 _There was the crack of a rifle from below and fire consumed his chest –_

* * *

Grace ran forwards and crouched by her dad. "Danno, are you okay?"

He sat up on his elbow, blinking rapidly as he looked between the bed and where he was at on the floor with the sheets tangled around his legs.

She knew her dad pretty well. She knew when he was angry and whether he was angry because of her mom or because of Uncle Steve. She knew when he was happy because of the little grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes. She knew when he was homesick for New Jersey, when he was tired after work, when he was hungry, when he was sick, when he was sad.

Right now was something she didn't see very often. He was scared.

"Danno?"

"I'm fine, Monkey, I'm okay. Just managed to launch myself out of bed, apparently," he said.

She scrunched up her brows in disbelief and stared at a spot over his shoulder. "Then how come your wings are out?"

One of his wings opened slightly as he checked over his shoulder, too. He sighed heavily and leaned against the bed.

Grace sat next to him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. This was how she knew he was scared. His hugs were tighter and he held on longer than usual. Not to mention that scales covered his forearms and his seldom seen wings had sprouted.

"What are you still doing up?" he asked after they sat in silence for a while.

"Uh…reading. Why did you fall out of bed?" she quickly asked her question before she could be scolded for being up late.

"I told you."

"Did you have a nightmare?"

"That my partner was a walking wrecking ball."

"Danno," she waited for a few beats. When he didn't answer, she murmured, "Talking about nightmares makes sure they won't come back."

"And who told you that?"

"You."

"I did?" he put a hand to his chest. "I guess I did, didn't I? I thought you would've been too young to remember that."

Another silence followed, only broken by her small breaths and his deeper, calming ones. The moonlight from outside made little bright lines on the floor through the slats on the shades. A cool breeze wafted in through the screen on the cracked window.

She lightly touched his wing that was curled around her. The membrane was warm and smooth like snakeskin, and if they were in better lighting she was sure she could see all the subtle hues of reds and browns that marbled the topside and the pearly underside with its swirled seashell pattern.

"I had a dream that I was fighting with your Uncle Steve."

She looked up at him.

"And that I hurt him and had to get away fast," his voice faded and he ran his fingers through his hair, taking a steadying breath in.

"Is that why your wings are out? You tried to fly away?"

"I tried to fly away, and I just couldn't do it," the wing behind her fluttered.

"Why were you fighting with Uncle Steve?"

"Because he doesn't listen to me," he flicked a hand out. "He doesn't listen and then he gets himself ki…hurt. Hurt really bad. And it's my fault."

"It's okay, Danno," she sat up on her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips against his temple. "Uncle Steve is okay. You would never really hurt him."

"You think I wouldn't? What makes you so confident in my ability to restrain myself from hurting him?" a small smile tugged at his mouth.

"Because, you're good," she said simply. "And you would never hurt your friends. Even Uncle Steve."

He snorted and pulled her into another hug. "What did I do to deserve you, huh?"

Grace hugged him back for a long time, until she felt him retract the rigid scales and wings on his back. She yawned against his neck and pulled away.

"You don't have to fly away, not ever," she said, kissing him one more time before trudging back to her room.

"Couldn't fly away and leave you, no matter what," he said. "I love you, Monkey."

"Love you too, Danno."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", we learn that the internet should not be trusted fully when it comes to dragons and Danny has an encounter with his neighbor's pet.**

 **Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! I hope you all have a wonderful day. :)**


	27. Fact 26

**I alternatively called this the debunking chapter.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #26: Don't believe everything you read on the internet about dragons.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 3**

" _He's coming out the back, Danny!"_

He could hear the thuds of Mark Koh running towards the back door near where he was positioned. His flipflops went slap, slap, slap out the door and down the back porch steps. At the last second, he stuck his foot out from around the edge of the shrubs he was hidden behind.

The guy tripped and slid through the grass on his face.

"How's that turf taste, buddy, huh?" Danny stood over him and pulled his arms behind his back, tightening the cuffs a bit tighter than what they probably should have been.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Dude, those are too tight!"

"Too tight? Look, those cuffs are the least of your problems right now. You're lucky I don't bust you upside the head for double homicide," he jerked him up and sat the young man's butt back in the grass.

"Double homicide?" Mark squeaked.

"Mr. and Mrs. Packer, the owners of the house in Kahala that we have security footage of you breaking into and then fleeing," he flung a hand out at him, making Mark flinch and cower.

"Wait, they're dead?"

Danny frowned. The lanky twenty-something year old seemed genuinely surprised.

"I didn't kill them! I swear!"

"Then what were you doing at their house last night?" he questioned. He glanced over his shoulder as Steve stalked out of the house.

Mark swallowed thickly at the scowl the commander was wearing. "If I tell you, do I get some kind of deal or somethin'?"

"Depends," Steve grumbled.

"Okay," Mark's shoulders slumped forward. His dark shaggy hair covered his eyes and a nervous sweat dripped down his acne riddled skin. "Me and a couple of other guys robbed the place last night, but the people were alive when I ran out, okay?"

"Who were the other guys?" Danny asked.

Mark exhaled harshly through his nose. "I dunno, dude. I met them a few days ago at the garage I take my car to and they said that they needed a third guy for a job they wanted to do."

"I guess it doesn't matter what kind of odd job it is. Mowing lawns, painting fences, robbing people, you'll do it so long as you make some quick cash, huh?"

"I owed some guys some money, so I took it. Yeah, it wasn't the brightest idea, but with my record I can't get hired anywhere that doesn't pay crap."

"What were their names?" Steve stared him down, a technique that Danny had to grudgingly admit worked in most circumstances and especially on already cuffed and scared guys.

"One dude was Jett and the other guy was Clay. Don't know any last names or anything," Mark said quickly. "They totally gipped me, dude."

"What? Did the two guys you _knew_ were criminals go back on their promise?" Danny asked.

"I only got off with one thing. They were gonna get a hold of me and we were gonna split the money three ways once we unloaded everything off onto a fence, but they never called," Mark huffed.

"What did you steal?"

"An egg."

"A what?" Danny tilted his head to the side and raised his brows at the kid.

"Yeah. It's in the box on that table in there," Mark nodded towards the house.

Steve walked back inside, leaving Danny to wonder what exactly they were dealing with. A Fabergé egg could be worth upwards of thousands of dollars, into the millions, even, if it had belonged to royalty. However, he had a sneaking suspicion that the Packers, even if they lived in a house he would never ever be able to afford in his lifetime, hadn't owned an egg worth that much.

"This?"

Steve returned with a simple brown cardboard box in his hands. He offered it to Danny and then gently opened the flaps on the top. Reaching in with the utmost care, he scooped out a large egg. Its smooth shell had orange to black ombré colorations like a glowing ember and was flecked with bits of gold.

"Dragon egg. Pretty sweet, right? I only got off with it because I didn't want to break it or crack it or somethin', so I was being really careful," Mark said, a small enthusiastic smile appearing as he stared at the beautiful egg.

"You are a complete and utter schmuck."

"What?"

"This is a painted ostrich egg."

"Dragons don't lay eggs," Steve put it back in the box and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What? Yeah, they do-"

"No, you Grade A putz," Danny set the box on the ground and chopped his hands down at Mark fervently. "Dragons do not lay eggs. They give live birth. Haven't you ever watched the Discovery channel? Or maybe you just didn't pay attention in school, huh?"

Mark's jaw hung open loosely, like he had just been told that the Earth was round instead of flat.

"You really got gipped," Steve gave him a cruel smirk.

"Where did you even hear that dragons lay eggs?" Danny asked.

Mark looked between the two of them. "The internet."

* * *

Danny flipped the gold coin over his knuckles, rolling it back and forth. Steve was sat beside him on the flight of metal stairs. The two of them stared at the young man handcuffed to the pipe running up the wall at the bottom of the stairs.

"So, Jett, care to explain why you have these gold pieces in your locker at the garage where you work and why you tried to run when you saw us?" Danny asked.

"No…?" he said. He was a bit older than Mark, with a lighter complexion and spiky two-toned hair.

"Really? Because Mark's being much more cooperative than you. And you know what they say, right Steve?"

"Early bird gets the worm," Steve said grimly.

"In this case, the early bird gets the better deal," Danny said. "You do realize that you can get back-to-back life sentences for double homicide, right?"

"What're you talking about, man? Double homicide?" Jett frowned at them.

Danny sighed. Great. Another genuinely confused twenty-something year old. He held up the gold coin between his fore and middle fingers. "The sentencing for grand theft is much kinder than that for two murders. Tell us what happened and you might get a deal."

"Look," Jett glanced around at the empty garage. He fidgeted with the cuffs and looked back at them. "We got Mark to help us so we could be in and out faster. But the numbskull bolted on us when the alarm went off."

"The 'us' would be you and Clay?" Steve asked.

Jett nodded. "Yeah. But the Packers were asleep when we got into the house. We almost had everything cleared out of the living room and then the alarm went off. Clay and I jumped into the car and split up once we got back to the garage. That's it. We didn't even go in with any guns or anything!"

"What did you steal before the alarm went off? Because your buddy Mark, in his own words, got gipped," Danny waved a hand at him.

"That stupid egg was a dud, wasn't it?" Jett grinned. "Serves him right for deserting us."

"But what did you and Clay steal?" he pointed at him specifically.

"Man, I dunno what Clay got off with it," Jett shook his head. "But those gold coins are from a hoard, so please, please be careful with them."

He shared an exasperated look with Steve and then directed that look at Jett. "A hoard?"

"Yeah, you know, a dragon hoard. Gold, jewels, shiny things, stuff like that," Jett gestured as best as he could to the box sitting on the bottom step of the stairs where the rest of his haul was.

"Dragons don't have hoards," Danny rubbed his hand down his face.

"Uh, yeah they do."

"No, no they don't. Are you still living in the Dark Ages? I swear if you tell me that they steal maidens, too, you're riding to the Palace on the roof," he flicked his wrist to the Camaro outside.

Steve stood up and walked down the stairs with Danny trailing behind. He uncuffed Jett from the pipe, cuffed him behind his back, and then steered him towards the garage door.

"Have you ever seen a dragon hoard?" Steve asked him.

"Yeah," Jett said as he climbed into the backseat of the car.

"Where?"

"The internet."

* * *

"Hey, brah, look at this."

Danny joined Chin over at the disaster of a workbench in Clay's house. Or rather, the two car garage attached to his older sister's house. The twenty-something year had made for a third genuinely confused thief and was currently sitting in the back of the Traverse.

"You've got to be kidding me," Danny grabbed a piece of the material amongst all of the metal rods and leather straps. He stalked over to the open back door of the Traverse where Kono was watching Clay. "What do you think you were going to do with this?"

"Uh…." Clay's mouth opened and closed a few times. "Well, not what I was gonna do originally. Apparently, most of the Packers' collection was fake, because I'm no genius but that is pig skin."

"And what, pray tell, did you think it was?" Danny asked.

"Wing membrane," Clay answered slowly.

"From?"

"A dragon."

"What type?"

"Serpent."

"No!" Danny looked heavenward and pressed his palms together in a pleading gesture. "No! Serpents don't fly, they don't have wings!"

"What?" Clay's eyes widened. "I thought all dragons could fly?"

Kono stifled a laugh at the fed up look on his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose and continued, "No. Not all dragons fly. Not even all dragons with wings fly. Where did you even – no, wait, I'm going to take a guess. The internet!"

Clay nodded numbly.

Danny tossed the pig skin to Kono and wandered off towards the Camaro. "I swear, the internet has this special power to suck the brains out of people."

* * *

"Okay, so the question is, what did the Packers have that intrigued Gerald Gomez the garage owner enough to commit murder for it?" Danny waved a hand at the hanging screens in front of the smart table.

"Well, according to our three dragon aficionados in lockup, the Packers were known in local circles for being collectors of dragon related items," Kono flicked her fingers. Several pictures from the interior of the Packers' house before the robbery appeared. "Like Clay realized, roughly half of their collection was fake."

"And pretty much worthless except for the few gold pieces that Jett had," Chin added. He brought up a list that they had compiled with help from Jett and Clay of what they stolen and then brought up a list of insured items. "Now, here's the interesting part. The Packers didn't actually insure any of the fake items that they owned."

"That way they couldn't be charged with insurance fraud," Steve said.

"Right, but there're only a couple of things on the lists that crossover," Kono pointed at the screen. "The gold pieces Jett had and the ceremonial daggers that Clay had. Everything else in their possession was fake. From what they tell us, they didn't get past the foyer and the living room before the alarm was triggered."

"Which means that the real artifacts were stored somewhere else in the house," Danny said. "If the Packers enjoyed dragons so much, they may have kept some pieces in their bedroom. Gerald breaks in and goes straight for the good stuff, ignoring the alarm and putting a few rounds in the couple when they wake up."

"What was so valuable in there that it would be worth two lives?" Steve asked, his frown deepening and his arms crossing his chest.

"I'm thinking it was this," Chin swept one more picture up onto the hanging screens. He pushed in on the background. "What does that look like to you?"

Danny approached the screen. "No way. Are you freaking kidding me?"

* * *

This case included spades of stupidity. There were no bounds to it. From the egg to the gold to the wing membrane, all of the thieves were ill-educated on all things dragon. At least Mark, Jett, and Clay had been safe with their ignorance. Gerald was a dead man walking.

Heat whipped up off the burning bank. Flames licked into the sky and smoke belched from the windows.

A quick search of Gerald's house had been enough for them to figure out what he was going to try and do. It was a plan doomed to fail.

HFD's yellow engine was parked sideways in the street. Its men aimed hoses at the building and at the surrounding ones, trying to drown the inferno and keep it from spreading. HPD and Five-0 kept onlookers from getting too close. What was it about a massive campfire in the middle of downtown that drew people to it like moths to a candle?

"Detective Williams!"

Danny glanced at the fireman behind him, who was motioning for him to come over.

"You guys are sure that he's in there?" the fireman jerked a thumb at the bank.

"He wasn't at his house and his car is right down the street. This was his plan, and we didn't see him evacuate out, so he's still got to be inside," Danny combed his fingers through his hair. The smell of smoke was dizzying, bringing back memories of fires being set throughout the city a month back.

The fireman cursed unintelligibly under his breath. "Alright."

He ran back to the cab of the engine and banged a fist on the window. Seconds later two medium sized Drakes launched out of the passenger door. One was about Danny's height at the head and the other was a few inches shorter, the former being a solid russet color and the latter an apricot striped with creams.

The pair of them ran through the busted glass doors into the fire.

"I know those two."

Danny looked up at Steve.

"They've been with the department forever. Since I was a teenager. My dad knew them. Iokua and Liz, I think."

"There was a pair of them stationed in my pa's firehouse while I was growing up," Danny said.

"I've got mad respect for Drakes in the fire departments. They've got a job I wouldn't want to do."

"You mean they've got a job you _couldn't_ do, because if they taught you how to be fireproof in the Army then you flunked out, my friend."

"Navy, Danny. Navy. Aren't Cliffs good for fighting fires, too?"

He eyed his partner.

"It's my question for the day."

Sighing, he answered, "Are Cliffs built for handling fires? Yes. Are they good for fighting fires? No. Not in buildings at least. Too big."

"Never thought I'd live to hear you say that you were too big to do something."

"You're funny. Go ahead. Make another joke about my height. See what happens."

But the bantering died there. They stood in silence then, listening to the crackling of the bank and the steady stream of onlookers. Firefighters were starting to get it under control. The smoke was going from a heavy black to a pale gray. The ambulance they had called just in case waited patiently by the barricades, the two EMTs sitting on the bumper.

Both Drakes stepped carefully out of the building, a shape slung between them. Danny and Steve jogged over as did the EMTs. Iokua and Liz set the form on the ground and backed away. Their thick and rigid scales were covered in ash and they smelled strongly of smoke.

Danny had a feeling they didn't need to check, but he crouched down and flipped the edge of the cloak over to reveal the body. He pressed his fingers under the man's jaw and paused. He shook his head at the EMTs.

"It was probably smoke inhalation," Liz murmured. "He wasn't breathing when we found him."

Danny sighed. While the Drake scales may have been real, the rumor was false. A cloak of dragon scales did not make you fireproof.

He looked up at his partner and made a small flitting motion with his hand at the body. "I really wish people wouldn't believe everything they read on the internet."

* * *

 **Don't believe everything you read on the internet.**

 **Thursday on "Dragons", Danny and Grace lend a hand to one of his neighbors and have a run in with her pet.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing! And remember, if you have questions or thoughts, drop them in a review and a chapter may be written about it! Keep in mind I'm several chapters ahead of my posting so a suggested chapter may take a bit to show up.**


	28. Fact 27

**Takes place probably a few days after the Aloha Girls camping trip.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #27: Animals know. They know.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 3**

"Danno, is she okay?" Grace tugged on the hem of his shirt.

Danny looked at her and then up the street where she was pointing. It was his day off and they had just gotten back from town. The mid-afternoon sun was already becoming hazy from the thin clouds closing in. Liquid sunshine was what the locals called it. Annoying was what he called it.

The person that his daughter had noticed was a woman about seven months pregnant wearing black maternity pants and a loose black tank top with Homer Simpson on it. Her chestnut hair was held in place by a big clip and made a spiky fountain that matched the wild fringe hanging to one side of her face.

He recognized her. She was one of his neighbors. He had come across her a few times in the last couple of months and she was always willing to shoot the breeze. Right now, though, she was staring into the backseat of her car and scratching her chin in contemplation.

"Let's go see if she needs some help, Monkey," Danny grasped her hand. He glanced both ways and jogged across the street. The house the woman was parked in front of was two further up from his. "That's some deep concentration there, babe."

The woman looked up and a grin cracked her face. "Hey, Danny, what's up?"

"Not much. Grace and I went out to grab a bite from that pizza place on the corner. We had just pulled up when she saw that you were making a particularly constipated face at your backseat."

She laughed and wiped a hand down her face, which was devoid of her usual dark makeup. "You have no clue."

"Been one of those days, huh?" he pointed at the bag in the backseat. "Want me to get that for you?"

"Don't hurt yourself," she stepped back and let him heft the bag up onto his shoulder with a wince. "Hey, I said _don't_ hurt yourself."

"What's in this, anyway?" he asked as she shut the car door and led them up the stone walkway to her open front door.

"Chicken feed."

"I didn't know you had chickens. Regular ole farmer here in the middle of the suburbs, huh?"

"I only have two."

"And they eat this much?"

"They're fat like me," she stepped up into her house. Around Danny's height but with a slimmer build that made her look smaller, the only fat she had on her was baby weight. She waved them through. "You can set it by the sliding glass door."

Grace waited politely by the front door while he walked through the living room and propped the bag against the wall next to the glass door. He could indeed see two chubby hens meandering around outside amongst the lush green grass in the nice fenced in backyard. He had never been in her house before and for good reason. He was a single man and her husband was usually not at home. There was just a general rule to avoid a situation like that. Since he had his daughter with him today, however, he felt that it was okay.

"Do your chickens have names?" Grace asked.

The woman kicked off her flipflops. "Big brown one is Lucy and the big white one is Sunshine. You can come on in, sweetie. Don't feel like a stranger."

Grace slipped off her shoes and followed the woman as she wandered through the living room. Danny caught her gazing around and followed where she was looking. Several framed posters of _The Simpsons_ , _My Little Pony_ , _Phineas and Ferb_ , _Looney Tunes_ , _Dragon Ranger Academy_ , _SWAT Kats_ , _Scooby-Doo_ , and _Transformers_ hung above the fireplace to the right. Acoustic and electric guitars sat on stands under them. Behind the couch there was a grand piano with a whirlwind of music sheets scattered on its bench. The lack of walls separating the kitchen and dining room from the living room gave it a very open feel and the white paint enhanced that.

"Thanks, Danny, I wasn't sure how I was going to get that inside," the woman said.

"No problem, Brooklyn. How's Mack?" he asked.

"Good. Still in LA, finishing up some work," she put one hand on her hip and the other on her belly. "He's finalizing some things so that he can work from home once the baby comes."

Danny nodded. He had met her husband when they had first moved in a few months back. Apparently, her brother-in-law and his wife owned the house and were renting it out to them. It had taken him months to find a place to live after he had been booted from his first apartment, but according to Brooklyn it had taken them a grand total of two weeks. _Two weeks._

"Well, next time you talk to him, tell him I said hi," he said. "You guys pick out a name yet?"

"More like narrowed it down," she held her hands out wide and shrunk the space between them until they were a few inches apart. "For a girl, I like Vega and Alaska. For a boy, I like Diesel and Atlas."

"And Mack?"

"He likes Vega, but he likes Glory and Quincy for a girl, and he likes Terrance and Flynn for a boy," she said.

"I take it that you're not going to find out if it's a boy or a girl until you actually have it, right?"

"It's gonna be a surprise."

"What color are you going to paint the baby room if you don't know?" Grace asked.

Brooklyn grinned. "My sister-in-law helped me paint it last week. Want to come see it?"

"Sure."

She took them into the hall to the right of the living room.

"Brooklyn! Brooklyn! Brooklyn!"

Danny and Grace both jumped at the sudden outburst of hollering.

"What? What? What?" Brooklyn paused mid-step, glaring upwards at nothing in particular.

"People in the house!"

"Yes, very good, these are people and they are in the house," she said.

Grace looked up at him and he shrugged. He had no clue what was going on.

"Man."

Brooklyn backtracked down the hallway. "No, huh uh. Don't even. This is Danny, he's cool."

He tracked where she was looking to a decorative tree snugly tucked into the corner between the hallway and another bedroom. Brooklyn, for all intents and purposes, now looked like she was having a conversation with the shrubbery.

"Cool."

"Yes, cool."

The tree wolf whistled.

"Oh, cut that out," she reached up and pushed one of the skinny limbs away, revealing gray feathers hiding out amongst the leaves.

"It's a parrot," Grace said.

Danny sighed and ran his hand over his hair. "Thought that we were having a moment with the Invisible Man."

"No, this is Baz," she held up her hand. The parrot clasped onto her fingers. "He's my African Grey. Want to quit acting like a creeper and say hello?"

"Aloha."

"Close enough," she walked back by them, continuing their journey down the hallway to the baby room. "I've had him since I was fifteen. I've got two cockatiels, too. They're still hanging out in their cage."

Baz bobbed his head at them as he and his owner passed by.

The room was to their left. Brooklyn did a slow circle once inside, admiring the handiwork. Baz twirled around on her hand as well. The walls were a green tea color with blue herons and cattails painted on them. A big plush frog sat in one corner and a mahogany crib in the corner opposite. A round play rug shaped like a lily pad was placed in the middle of the floor.

"I like the color. It's nice," Danny said. "Very calm and soothing."

"Feels like we're in a pond," Grace said.

"Good. That's what I was going for," Brooklyn nodded as did her bird.

Baz stopped nodding and cocked his head to the side, lifting one foot in a wave at Grace. She tentatively waved back.

Brooklyn extended her arm. "You want to hold him?"

"Can I?" Grace looked up at Danny.

"He's safe, he's never bitten anyone," she assured him.

"I guess if you want to, Monkey," he said, eyeing the bird warily. He was almost strictly a dog guy when it came to pets.

Brooklyn took Grace's hand and held it next to hers, allowing him to switch perches. Baz edged sideways up her arm until he was on her shoulder. Next to his ten year old, Danny noted that the bird's size was even more apparent. He really was a big gray bird with vivid red tail feathers.

Grace giggled as Baz leaned over and whispered in her ear. It was all little clicks and quiet sounds.

"He must like you. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear, the flirt," Brooklyn shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. She pivoted on her heel and faced Danny. "My sister-in-law is throwing me a baby shower in a few weeks if Grace would like to come. It's just going to be finger foods and games and present opening."

He flicked one hand out. "Who's all going to be here? No offense to you, babe, but I don't really know your friends and family very well."

"Protective dad, I like it," she smiled approvingly. "Um, my sister-in-law is going to be here, my sister, my mom, two of my nieces that are about Grace's age, and then my friend and her baby. It's going to be a small party. You could come if you want to."

"And be the only one of the male persuasion there? Did that once, don't really want to do it again," he chuckled. "I don't know. We'll have to talk about it."

"Can Auntie Kono come?" Grace looked up from the whispering bird.

"Sure, if she wants to. I'm game to make new friends," Brooklyn said.

"How about this, if you convince Kono to go with you, you can go, okay?"

"Deal."

Baz shifted his attention to Danny and reached one foot out again. Brooklyn only smirked and gestured for him to put his hand down to him.

"No, no, I'm good. I had an incident with my uncle's rooster once and am not too keen to hold a bird of that size."

Brooklyn tsked at him. "Chickens and parrots are two totally different kinds of birds."

"Come on, Danno, he's so cool," Grace grinned brightly.

Feeling like he had been beat and not being able to resist his daughter's big brown puppy dog eyes, he hesitantly offered his hand to the bird. He clasped one foot around his fingers and then the other. He had expected talons, but Baz didn't have any. Just long toes with short claws.

Baz wolf whistled at him again.

"Thank you. I'm very flattered."

"Feel special. He usually only does that to Mack and his brother Garret. And me if he's feeling cheeky."

"Cool. Cool," Baz murmured as he crouched to inspect his wrist. Danny tensed as he softly ran the tip of his beak over his skin. "Pretty boy. Pretty boy. Pretty dragon."

His heart skipped a beat. "Excuse me, did your bird just call me a dragon?"

"Dragon scales," Baz continued, still lightly nibbling his wrist. "Cool."

"Uh…." Brooklyn quickly put out her hand and collected the bird from him. "He has a thing for dragons."

"Uh huh," he looked at Grace, who looked awestruck and a bit worried.

"Shhh," Baz shushed as he crawled up Brooklyn's arm to sit on her shoulder. "Secret. Our secret."

"Just ignore him, please," Brooklyn's ears lit up with embarrassment. She motioned to the bedroom door. They walked back down the hallway and through the living room to the front door. "I guess just let me know if you're coming to the baby shower, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll let you know," Danny stepped out the door.

Brooklyn leaned out. "Hey, I'm sorry about Baz. I didn't mean to cause a problem. He usually knows better."

"So long as he doesn't go gossiping to the neighborhood birds and spreading rumors, we'll be okay," he shot the bird a mistrustful look.

"Animals," Brooklyn huffed and gave him half of a smile. "Sometimes they know too much for their own good."

Giving Baz one last glance as he walked away, Danny had to agree. He just hoped that no one would believe a parrot.

* * *

 **Sorry if this one was kind of slow, it's set up both for Brooklyn to return later and for the fact that some animals can pick a dragon out of a crowd.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", dragons may not be lizards, but they still don't do very well locked in a freezer and then the team debates the best flavors of shaved ice.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing! Also, thank you for all the favs and follows! It means a lot to me. :)**


	29. Fact 28

**False alarm, no snow here yet. Have some chilly chapters anyway, and who's excited for this week's episode? I know I am. Bring on the whump and bromance, aw yeah.**

 **Art has been added to the art page.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #28: Fire breathers are furnaces with legs and scales.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 3**

"I can't believe this! What kind of morons are these guys?"

"They can't be t-t-too moronic, seeing as they actually m-m-managed to trap us."

"Fine. Maybe they're not morons, but who in the hell uses a meat locker as a trap, huh?"

"Keeps us s-s-slow without having t-t-to use drugs."

The three of them had been inside the large room for close to an hour if Danny's estimate was right. The gauge on the wall said it was a pleasant 33 degrees Fahrenheit, just the right temperature for the hanging slabs of beef and just the right temperature to make it dangerous. They had been pacing around, checking and double checking every corner in case they had missed a way out.

Unfortunately, it was a well-built meat locker.

Danny tucked his hands under his arms and exhaled a foggy breath. "I hope Kono gets here soon."

"M-m-me too, brah."

He swiveled to face his teammates. The pair of them were shivering. Hard. Their noses and ear tips were bright red and clouds of vapors from their breaths swirled above their heads.

"How c-c-come you're not sh-sh-shivering?" Steve questioned.

"Because I'm from an environment where it actually gets below sixty degrees. Trust me, this is nothing compared to some of the winters in Jersey," he said.

It was partially true. However, in his three years there in Hawaii he had acclimated to the warm weather. His blood had thinned out from what it had been.

Steve was apparently thinking the same thing. "Don't f-f-fire breathers take l-l-longer to s-s-succumb to hypothermia?"

"Th-th-their s-s-stoking chamber k-k-keeps them w-w-warm," Chin nodded.

Chin wasn't lying. However, his was dormant and the only thing keeping him warm was his body's standard response to any kind of injury or illness. If he was checked he would be declared to have a low-grade fever, but that was just how fire breathers with stoking chambers functioned. Sick? Kill it with fire. Injured? Feel the burn. Cold? Crank up the heat.

"Maybe you sh-sh-should start a f-f-fire," Steve suggested sluggishly.

"And then we'll have an oxygen problem. Do you know how much oxygen I have to inhale to stoke something, or how much oxygen a small fire eats up? We'll all suffocate before we get a chance to freeze."

"R-r-right. Didn't th-th-think about th-th-that," Steve said.

Shivering. Sluggishness. Bad judgement. Early warning signs of hypothermia. Danny looked back at the door and wondered if he could knock it down in dragon form. There was the off chance that his claws could tear through the metal and then they'd be home free.

He frowned. The meat locker was in the warehouse district. There had been people, most likely more of the bad guys, hanging around when they had tried to subdue their perp. Was there more of them out there? He may have been fire and somewhat freeze proof, but he wasn't bulletproof. And even then, if he wasn't shot and he did manage to take anyone and everyone down, unless they were dead they would know what kind of dragon he was. Even though all of the goons outside were of bad guy status, he didn't have a taste for needlessly killing people off just because they had seen him.

Looking back at Steve and Chin huddled together against the wall and taking on a more popsicle appearance by the minute, he sighed heavily. He just hoped that their rookie would ping their last known location before their cell phones were crushed under a boot and arrive with the cavalry soon.

He trudged towards them. "Scooch over."

He wedged himself between the pair of them and wrapped his arms around their backs. Diamond shaped scales overlapped on his hands up to his elbows, insulating him from the cold.

Steve's icy fingers touched his neck. "M-m-man, you r-r-really are w-w-warm."

"Hey, hey! Watch where you're putting your hands. That goes for you too, Chin," Danny snapped.

Chin kept his hands firmly pressed against his ribcage despite the warning, hugging to his side as closely as possible. Steve stiffly inched nearer until he was flush against his other side.

Danny tipped his head back, resting it on the wall. A rush of heat flared to life in his chest. He grimaced. The feeling started at the base of his ribcage where it was the most intense and then faded up to his collarbone. It wasn't as hot as usual, nowhere near melting temperatures. He wasn't suicidal.

"D-d-do you actually g-g-get c-c-cold, or are you j-j-just hot h-h-headed all th-th-the time?" Steve asked.

"I'll have you know that my temperament has nothing to do with my type. Full blood, mixed blood, or human, I would still take up issue with you being a boneheaded Neanderthal every chance you get. Do you even know how high my blood pressure shot up when I started working with you?"

Steve smirked. "S-s-so I'll t-t-take that as a y-y-yes."

"Really?"

"C-c-consider it m-m-my one q-q-question for the d-d-day."

Danny swallowed, not enjoying the acidic nature of his stoking chamber pumping heat that close to his stomach and lungs. That was one of the hazards of only partially shifting.

"Well, since I'm a man of my word, I'll answer your question," he said.

Chin raised a brow at them, but held his tongue.

"I do get cold. I do own jackets. I had to wear gloves and snow pants and a hat when I went sledding with Grace back home. I like my room to be cold when I sleep. What I don't like is that the weather is so consistent here. Every day, it's sunny and then we get a brief rain shower while the sun is still out. Back in Jersey, we had variety. Somedays it was so hot that you could smell the oil on the asphalt, somedays it was so cold that if you spit it would freeze before hitting the ground. The wind blew, there was hail, there were blizzards, there was weather!"

He coughed as he finished. It was harsh and dry. Tiny tendrils of smoke swirled away from his mouth and nose.

"Th-th-thought you said y-y-you couldn't s-s-stoke s-s-something?" Chin said and gave him a quizzical look.

"I'm not," he cleared his throat and swallowed again. The bitter aftertaste of the smoke lingered in his sinuses.

"Y-y-you dry s-s-stoking, brah?"

His silence betrayed him.

"D-d-dry s-s-stoking?" Steve echoed.

"For someone that always goes on about how you had to learn about all things dragon in the Navy, you sure are ignorant to a lot of terms."

Steve huffed unhappily and rubbed one now warmed up hand down his face. "G-g-give me a m-m-minute, my b-b-brain is f-f-frozen."

"Maybe I need to stick Super SEAL in the deep freeze more often. It slows him down enough that I can prepare better for whatever he's planning on doing or saying next."

Steve glared at him. "Dry s-s-stoking is when y-y-you h-h-heat up your ch-ch-chamber without anything in it t-t-to burn."

"Gold star to the guy that was actually paying attention in class," he said before falling into another coughing fit. More smoke curled away from him.

"D-D-Danny, you're g-g-going to h-h-hurt yourself," Steve objected.

He sucked in a chilly breath and relished the initial bite it had before it too was warmed. "I'm fine, babe, really. I've dry stoked for an entire night before."

"W-w-when?"

"Sorry. You used your free question for the day."

Chin snorted and Steve narrowed his eyes at him.

Gradually, they began to regain feeling in their fingers and the shivering died down to minor trembles. Danny had been counting the minutes since they had gotten locked inside the meat locker, but had stopped after his attention was diverted to not causing internal damage to himself. His rough estimate was that another thirty minutes had gone by since he had huddled up with his teammates.

Thirty minutes of dry stoking. Thirty minutes of acrid smoke from having nothing to burn. Thirty minutes of uncomfortable heat too close to sensitive organs. Thirty minutes of self-induced fever.

He was just really starting to hurt when there was a hiss.

The seal on the door was cracking.

He retracted his scales and brought his stoking to a grinding halt, the sudden cease in heat making him feel drained and flushed. Steve and Chin, both now more awake since they had defrosted a bit, went for their guns.

"Holy crap, it's cold in here."

"Kono!"

"Steve? Are Danny and Chin in here, too?"

"All three stooges are accounted for, and might I add, you are like a glorious ray of sunshine on a cold winter's day," Danny patted her arm as the three of them nearly bolted from their cold prison.

"A freezer? Really, guys?" Kono shook her head and followed them out into the mild Hawaiian temperatures that permeated the warehouse. "Only you guys would get trapped in a freezer."

Danny glanced around at all the activity. HPD was crawling the premises, leading various handcuffed men to cruisers and collecting evidence for the case. Kono had indeed brought the cavalry.

Donning a proud grin for their rookie, he made a beeline for one of the doors.

"Danny," Steve jogged to catch up to him. "You doin' okay?"

He set his hand against his chest and waved the other at the warm light beaming down on the cars parked outside. "I'm no longer confined in a tiny place and slowly being frozen to death with you, so I am doing fantastic, thanks."

"Come on, man, dry stoking is tough on the body."

"No, working with _you_ is tough on the body," he corrected. His face pinched as a rolling wave of heat made his ears burn and his stomach churn.

"Woah, you going to be sick?"

"I just need to cool down. Get the message across to my body that I'm no longer in peril and let my stoking chamber take the rest of the day off."

"How about a nice cold beer at my place?"

"Beer?"

Chin and Kono approached the pair of them. Kono looked hopeful at the prospect of getting to chill out after performing a rescue in under two hours. Danny didn't blame her. He had been the lead on last minute raids and rescue missions before, and it was a nerve wracking job. Cold beer was a heavenly reward at the end of a situation like that.

"Yeah, sure. We all need some time to kick back. Everyone want to meet at my place?"

"Totally. I'll finish up here and be over in no time."

Chin rubbed his hands together and turned on his heel. "I'll stick around and wait for her."

After watching the cousins walk back into the flurry of officers, they both made their way back to the Camaro with the intent of clocking out. Before they could get in the car, however, Steve paused and caught Danny's eye over the top.

"Mahalo, brother."

Danny nodded. "Couldn't have you losing your fingers to frostbite. Then how would you load your grenade launcher?"

They grinned like brothers do after surviving an incident.

* * *

 **I guess it's standard procedure that once you've been in the Five-0 fandom long enough you throw them into a freezer at some point. Think it's the juxtaposition of freezing to death in Hawaii?**

 **Art has been added to art page. Note me if you still need the link (has to go through PMs, so I can't send it if you're not signed in or your PMs are disabled).**

 **Thursday on "Dragons", the team has a debate over flavors of shave ice and Danny wonders how you can taste a color.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, faving, and following! Means a lot to me. :)**


	30. Fact 29

**I love me some shave ice. Yum.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #29: Shaved ice: the ideal treat for all ages.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 3**

"Why, of all the flavors and ridiculous flavor combinations that I've seen in my lifetime, did you get grape?" Danny flipped a hand out at Kono's purple pile of shaved ice.

"What's wrong with grape?" Kono questioned as she jabbed her spoon into the ice once she was sitting down at the picnic table.

"Have you ever considered the fact that it doesn't even taste like grapes at all? And if it doesn't taste like grapes, then what does it taste like? I mean, what is its flavor?" Danny said.

Kono examined her shaved ice carefully, poking at it with the spoon before meeting her teammate's eyes again with a small smile. "Um…purple?"

Danny looked at her flatly. "Purple. It tastes like purple? I was unaware that purple was a flavor. You hear that, Steve, she thinks that purple is a flavor."

Steve slid his long legs under the table and plopped on the bench seat next to his partner. "I always thought that artificial grape tasted like purple."

"You too? _How_ do you even taste a color? It's not a flavor, it's a color. It's just grape."

"You just said that grape wasn't really grape flavor," Chin said from the other side of the table where he was perched by his cousin.

"It's not, but it's not purple, either!" Danny dug his fingers through his hair and exhaled heavily. "Okay, okay, if you are going to be adamant about insisting that purple is a flavor, whatever. It's making my head hurt trying to explain it to you five year olds."

"What flavor did you get, brah?" Kono waved her spoon in his direction at his nondescript red ice.

"Cherry."

Steve smirked. "I figured you'd go for a classic."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are a man that enjoys the classics. Bon Jovi and Sinatra, classic muscle cars, so-called classic movies, and classic shave ice flavors that you can get at a gas station."

" _Enemy of Mine_ is a classic movie, and so what if cherry reminds me of the gas station a few blocks from where I grew up in Jersey? Matty and I used to skateboard down there in the summertime and get cherry and blue raspberry slushees."

"Did you say skateboard?" Chin raised a brow at him while Kono laughed.

Danny realized his mistake too late. "It was the '80s. Everyone skateboarded. What? You don't think I'm coordinated enough to stay up on a skateboard?"

"Dude, why did you make such an issue out of learning to surf? It's like skateboarding on the water, but if you wipeout you don't skin half your face off," Kono grinned at him.

"Yeah, Danno, how come this is the first time I'm hearing of this?" Steve asked.

"How come? How – you know what? No. That's it. I don't want to hear anyone mention anything to do with skateboarding or surfing for the rest of the day. What flavor did you get, Chin? It's extremely blue and you're starting to look a little cyanotic."

"Ocean Breeze," Chin smiled, showing off blue teeth. "Kind of has a blue raspberry, vanilla, lemon flavor."

"Babe, you do realize you're going to have a blue mouth for the rest of the day, right?" Danny said.

"And you're going to have a very red mouth," Chin countered.

"It's less noticeable than blue," Danny turned to his partner, eyeing the green ice in his cup. "What's yours? No, wait, let me guess, it's radioactive waste to keep up Super SEAL's strength, right? With a tiny pinch of napalm on the top?"

"No, Danny, it's not radioactive," Steve grinned as he shoveled another spoonful in.

"You sure, Boss? It looks about the right color," Kono said.

"It's just lime," Steve replied.

Danny cocked his head to the side as he heard him mutter something else. "Excuse me? What was that? It's just lime and what?"

Steve repeated himself around a mouthful of shaved ice.

"What? Fear malt? Fear malt sounds extremely Super SEAL, like a kind of breakfast cereal you'd eat in the morning to make yourself extra insane and scary before taking on the world, yet I'm having a hard time believing that's what you actually said. And you call me a mumbler."

"Beer salt. I said lime and beer salt," Steve finally acquiesced.

Chin nodded while Kono and Danny made faces. Danny chopped a hand out at the bright green ice. "You put salt on your shaved ice?"

"Beer salt."

"Still. You put _salt_ on your _shaved ice_? What the hell's the matter with you? Who even does that?"

"It's good, Danny! Like a margarita without the tequila."

"Oh, let's just take out the fun part of the drink, huh? This has got to be an island thing, right?"

"It's really good after you've been sweating hard throughout the day," Chin said.

Danny sat back. "Why do I even ask? I shouldn't even be surprised. I shouldn't even be surprised by what kind of shaved ice people eat. My partner that I had before I moved here had been at a department in Fort Worth for a year or two before coming to Newark, and she said that one of the most popular shaved ice flavors in Texas is dill pickle."

"Ew, who would eat dill pickle flavored ice?" Kono pulled a face.

"Thankfully, she was more partial to a normal flavor. Always had to have cinnamon flavored things. Cinnamon gum, cinnamon tea, cinnamon shaved ice," Danny scooped up a spoonful of his melting ice. "At least she always smelled nice."

"Cath has a thing for orange cream shave ice," Steve said. "And Mary used to really like Piña Colada shave ice."

"Duke likes Mai Tai shave ice," Chin added to the conversation.

"Meka liked the Fuzzy Navel ones, you know, with the peach syrup on one side and the orange syrup on the other, and always got those weird bean things on top," Danny said.

"Max really likes watermelon shave ice," Kono said. "Ran into him one day at Waiola and he had just like this mountain of shave ice drenched in watermelon syrup."

"What's Gracie's favorite flavor?" Steve asked, and then the three of them were looking at Danny.

"My little Monkey is partial to the classics, like me, but she is always willing to try new flavors when it comes to shaved ice. Anything else is a different story, but it's like there are no bounds when it comes to frozen water doused in brightly colored liquid sugar. Why do you think Kamekona's always trying to coerce her into trying his new flavor combinations?" Danny said.

"Well, so long as he doesn't make a shrimp flavor of shave ice, I'd say we're okay," Kono shook her head.

"Oh, but babe, a been there, done that situation has already happened. Got a double thumbs down from Grace and he even got a very long explanation, from my ten year old, not me, about why there should never ever be a shrimp flavor of shaved ice," Danny stuck the last bite of ice in his mouth as he finished.

Chin held up his nearly empty cup. "To Grace, for saving the island from shrimp flavored shave ice."

That was a sentiment they all could agree on, no matter their preference of shaved ice.

* * *

 **I'm partial to Tiger's Blood or sour flavors. What's your favorite?**

 **Next week on "Dragons", a girls night out and a boys night out don't go as planned.**

 **And, as a side note, if you happen to see a chapter appear where one of the team takes ill during a case and is sick, I had that one planned long before I knew what episode 8.09 was going to be. ;)**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, faving, and following! Keep an eye out for updates, never know when a suggestion may pop up in a chapter.**


	31. Fact 30

**This about sums up what happens at baby showers when I attend.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #30: A group of dragons is called a den, and a den of females is bound to find trouble one way or another.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 3**

Kono wasn't exactly sure how she got roped into going to a baby shower with Grace, but was sure it had to do with the young girl's ability to get people wrapped around her finger in a subtle and endearing way. Would she rather be out drinking with the boys? Sure. But she was determined to have a good time with her adoptive niece.

Danny knocked on the door of the house across the street and two up from his. A rental car, a work truck, and a Jeep were among the cars parked out front and she could hear laughter through the screen door.

A woman of native Hawaiian descent appeared on the other side of the screen. "Hello?"

"Is that Danny and Grace?" another voice shouted from inside.

"I dunno. Are you Danny and Grace?" the woman asked.

"Yes, and this is Kono," Danny introduced her.

"Sweet. Come on in," she held the door open for them, pointing at Danny as the two girls stepped up into the house. "You sure you don't wanna stay, brah? We've got Longboards and wine for the nonpregnant people."

"Danny, come on!"

Danny glared over his shoulder at Steve sitting in the driver's seat of the Camaro that was pulled alongside the curb. The woman tilted her head to the side, following his line of vision.

"Well, hello tall, dark, and handsome," she waggled a few fingers at him. "You sure your friend doesn't wanna stay?"

"Keola, cut it out," a heavily pregnant woman slapped her arm as she peeked around the edge of the doorframe. "Go have fun with your bros, Danny."

Kono smothered a smirk as Danny made a few hand gestures at Steve while walking to the car. If she was reading the silent exchange correctly, Steve was rubbing it in that he was the one being flirted with while Danny was telling him to shut it.

"I'm taking a wild guess here in thinking that 'Auntie' is not your actual relation to Grace?" the pregnant woman turned towards Kono.

"No, but she's like a niece to me and her dad's like a brother," Kono said.

"That's awesome. I'm Brooklyn, by the way," she combed her wild fringe out of her face. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with fair skin. "This is my friend Keola and the little chub scooting around on the floor is her baby Akela."

Keola was in her early to mid-twenties with long, wavy dark hair dyed blonde at the tips with various braids here and there. The fishhook necklace that dangled around her neck and her board shorts screamed surfer to Kono.

"Um, where do you want me to put this?" Grace tapped the present that was in her hands and wrapped in bright green paper.

"Over here on the table. Come on, _keiki_ , I'll show you," Keola put a hand on Grace's shoulder and steered her towards the dining room.

Kono held up her unwrapped gift. "I usually don't go to baby showers, but one of my cousins said this would be a good gift."

"Score! Diapers!" another woman snatched the package up before Brooklyn could.

"Kono, this is my sister-in-law Nicole, Nicky for short," she gestured to the woman.

Nicky looked to be in her late twenties and had more Asian in her lineage, with black hair in a pixie cut and dark eyeshadow. She extended her hand to Kono. "I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm so happy that you and Grace could come. Emma and Sophie should be around here somewhere. Yo, Philly, where're your girls?"

A woman on the couch that had to be related to Brooklyn due to the similar oval facial structure and chestnut hair color shrugged. "They're probably in the backyard harassing the chickens."

"I'll go grab them. Make introductions and stuff. We've got food and drinks in the kitchen if you want some, beer is in the fridge. I've got a couple of games we can play now that everyone is here. This is going to be amazing!"

She felt winded just listening to Nicky and felt a little bit dizzy as she swept away towards the backyard. "Energizer bunny much?"

"Oh yeah," Brooklyn plopped down in one of the recliners and motioned for her to take a seat on the other one. "That's my older sister Philadelphia, we call her Philly, and my mom Francesca, but everyone calls her Frankie."

"Brooklyn and Philadelphia?" Kono perked a brow as she eased down into the chair.

"Their father's idea," Frankie, an older woman with mostly gray hair pulled back into a bun, shook her head. "Their middle names are Charlotte and May, my original choices for names."

Nicky popped back into the living room with two girls around Grace's age in tow. "I've got games! Who's ready to play?"

* * *

An hour and a half of games later and another half hour of just chatting, Kono was on her second beer.

Nicky had been the coordinator of all the games. Philly and Brooklyn had smoked them all at the baby animal name game. Frankie had owned them at the who knows the mom best game, but Kono felt that she and Grace were at a disadvantage since they didn't know any of them very well. Grace, Emma, and Sophie all equally won the Play-Doh baby game. Keola changed the diaper so fast with the speed diaper change game that Kono wasn't sure she even changed the diaper.

Kono, however, guessed Brooklyn's belly size with a piece of string down to the centimeter. She chalked that one up to her being a cop with an eye for detail.

Now, the group had dispersed again with Philly and Nicky in the kitchen talking, Frankie and Brooklyn sitting on lawn chairs in the backyard in the waning light, the three girls playing hide and seek, and Kono finding out she got along quite well with Keola.

"Yeah, when I went to the Philippines, the waves were trash but the snorkeling was killer," Keola flipped through pictures on her phone, showing Kono the places she had traveled.

"You ever been to Snapper Rocks in Australia?" Kono asked.

"Totally. That's where I met Akela's daddy," Keola nodded her head towards the kitchen where her baby was taking a snooze in Nicky's arms. "Was kind of a whirlwind romance that lasted a whole week."

Kono frowned. "Sorry."

"It's cool. We're still on good terms," Keola said. "Akela was an oops, but she's my oops and I love her to bits."

Three high pitched screams filled the quiet house and nearly sent Kono tumbling off the couch.

* * *

Grace tiptoed down the stairs in the laundry room into the basement. Brooklyn said it was okay for them to use anywhere to hide except the master bedroom, and she had seen Emma, who was a year older than her, slip down here.

Baz had taken to riding on her shoulder for most of the evening. He whistled softly as they descended into the cooler room underneath the house. It was well lit by nightlights that turned on as she walked by, which could be a hindrance to staying hidden, but for now were very helpful.

It looked like the basement was mostly used for storage. It didn't really have a creepy or cluttered feel, though, and was free of dust for the most part. It even had a rug on the floor so she didn't freeze her toes on the cold concrete.

"Where should we hide?" she asked the bird quietly.

"There's a good hiding spot behind the stairs."

Grace looked around for the disembodied voice. The flap to one of the handholds on a cardboard box flipped up and Emma peered out at her.

"Sneaky," Baz commented, tilting his head to eye the peephole in the box.

"Ready or not, here I come!"

Grace hurried into the low area behind and under the stairs. If she kept pressed against the wall, the shadows may keep her hidden. She could hear Sophie, who was a year younger than her, extremely close to the basement entrance in the laundry room above them.

"Dragon," Baz said.

"Shhh, not now, Baz," Grace hushed him.

Baz's neck feathers fluffed up. "Dragon. Short dragon. Look, dragon. Grace, dragon. Look!"

Grace furrowed her brows and followed where the bird was looking. There, in the dark corner of the room, something big moved. She slowly backed out of her hiding place, bumping into Sophie as she did.

"Grace, you didn't hide real good," the little girl with the shoulder length blonde hair huffed.

"There's something in the corner over there," Grace said. She put an arm out so the younger girl couldn't get closer to it.

The cardboard box against the wall burst open and Emma clambered out, her long chestnut hair frizzing up with static. "What's in the corner?"

"I don't know, but Baz kept calling it a dragon," she pointed to the bird on her shoulder.

"Short dragon," Baz confirmed, though it was still an odd statement.

Emma grabbed a yardstick off the workbench next to the boxes and shuffled towards the dark corner. Grace and Sophie hung back, letting the older girl handle it.

Just as she poked the yardstick into the corner there was a fierce and loud rattling that sent them scrambling and screaming up the stairs.

* * *

"Girls! What's wrong?" Philly questioned as she intercepted her daughters and Grace.

"There's something in the basement!" Sophie squealed.

"It hissed at us!"

"What was it?" Philly asked.

"We don't know," Grace shook her head.

"Dragon! Short dragon!" Baz fluffed out all of his feathers, nervously turning in circles on Grace's shoulder.

"A dragon?" Kono looked between the women and kids that had gathered in the kitchen.

"That's weird. He wasn't yelling that at one of you?" Brooklyn asked as she retrieved her bird and stroked him.

All three girls shook their heads.

"Well, I'm going to go check it out," Keola set off towards the laundry room.

Kono followed her. What if someone in dragon form was hiding out in Brooklyn's basement? There had been horror stories of people living inside of other people's houses without them knowing they were there. Living in secret rooms, in crawlspaces, false walls, basements, attics, wherever they could fit. Being the only officer there, an armed officer might she add, she felt that she should maybe take the lead of investigating.

"Hold on, let me go first," she plucked her backup from her ankle holster before the pair of them went down the stairs.

"Dude, paranoid much?" Keola rolled her eyes, but let her descend first.

Keola felt around the wall and flicked the lights on once they were in the basement. Kono did a methodical sweep of the area, hoping that a person she had met just two hours ago would make sure someone didn't get the drop on her from behind.

"Shi–!"

Kono swiveled to see Keola just barely retracting caramel and amber scales from her face, legs, and arms. Ignoring the scales for now, because honestly it was none of her business, she then looked where the other woman was looking.

"What the hell is that?" Keola snapped.

"That would be a snake," Kono approached slowly.

"Baz's 'short dragon'?"

The snake coiled itself into an S shape, hissing hotly at them. Keola and Kono jumped back.

"Damn, is it a rattlesnake?" Keola asked.

"No," Kono lowered her gun. She knew what a rattlesnake looked like from working a few illegal animal cases with Five-0, but this wasn't one. "I think it's a bull snake."

"Deadly?"

Kono shook her head as she dug out her phone. "All bark, no bite. I'll call animal control."

Keola jogged up the stairs to relay the situation while Kono flipped through her contacts, trying to find the animal control number she had saved. No more than thirty seconds later and right before she was about to dial, she heard someone thundering down the stairs into the basement.

"Bull snake for sure," Nicky concurred. She had a beach towel in her hands, which concerned Kono slightly. Nicky was one of those people that everything she did was slightly concerning.

"Nicky, don't touch. I'm calling animal control."

"Girl, I _am_ animal control. You think hosting awesome baby showers is my day job?"

"You're kidding."

"Cross my heart. Honest to God, I actually work for animal control. Didn't you see my work truck outside? I can handle this."

She seemed more serious about this than she had been about everything else throughout the evening, and Kono _had_ seen the work truck outside earlier. She reluctantly let her edge around her and toss the towel over the still hissing snake.

Nicky struck quick and fast, focusing her nonstop energy into something other than making everyone dizzy and talking them into the ground. She latched onto the snake behind its head and hefted up its body.

"Empty out that plastic container for me, please."

Kono set her gun on the work bench and removed the papers from the clear shallow container underneath it. She set it on the ground, ready to slap the lid on it as soon as Nicky put the snake in it. A sigh of relief escaped her as soon as the lid was snugly in place.

"See? Much faster than calling the other wingnuts out here," Nicky smiled brightly and carried the container up the stairs. Kono holstered her gun and followed.

Brooklyn met them in the kitchen. "Nothing else down there?"

"Not that I could see," Nicky shook her head.

"How did it even get into the basement?" Frankie asked.

"I don't know, but you might want to keep the door shut for now and let animal control–"

"Or me."

"–or Nicky, take a better look around down there," Kono said.

"Not that I'm afraid of snakes, but I don't want a constrictor like that around the girls or my baby when it comes," Brooklyn rubbed her hands down her face.

"Bull snakes aren't native, right?" Keola asked.

"No," Nicky and Kono answered at the same time.

"Is there any chance any of your neighbors have any illegal pets?" Kono asked.

Brooklyn scratched the back of her neck. "I don't know. I only really know Danny and then Evelyn next door, but I doubt a cop or a seventy-eight year old have any illegal pets."

Kono gestured to the kitchen window that overlooked the street. "Don't be surprised if you see HPD knocking on doors in the neighborhood tomorrow."

Nicky put the container on the floor in front of a chair. "Okay, how about we get out the ice cream and open presents to wind down, sound good?"

"Do you have chocolate, Aunt Nicky?" Sophie asked.

"Pfft, do I have chocolate? Who do you think you're talking to? Come on, Grace, come pick out what flavor you want."

* * *

It was creeping closer to ten o'clock by time Kono waved goodbye as she and Grace slipped out the front door into the night.

"That was fun," Grace said as they walked down the sidewalk.

"That was pretty fun," Kono nodded. She grinned just because Grace did.

"You and Keola would make good surfing buddies."

"Yep, she's pretty cool," she agreed. She did get Keola's number from her so they could arrange to go surfing sometime. The woman had some wicked stories from her travels and Kono had some of her own to share.

"But I didn't like the snake."

"Me neither," she glanced both ways and then stepped out into the street. "I'm so glad that you didn't get hurt by it or your dad would've had me washing his car for the next month."

"Danno doesn't like snakes," Grace said. "He likes dogs. And rabbits."

"Really? He likes rabbits?"

"Uh huh. He told me that he used to have one when he was my age."

"Huh," Kono smirked. She had never pegged her teammate as a rabbit guy. "Well, I'm just happy it wasn't a centipede in the basement. Those gross me out."

"Me too."

There was a light on in Danny's place and the Camaro was parked out front. The boys must have beaten them home.

Kono opened the door, letting Grace in first. She kicked off her shoes and looked up as Danny asked how the baby shower was. Her eyes widened. Danny had a black eye, Steve's jaw was turning purple, and Chin was eating frozen yogurt.

"What happened to you guys?"

* * *

 **Thursday on "Dragons", we see exactly what the boys got up to.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! And still no snow here, darn it.**


	32. Fact 31

**This is a portrait of my mom, my aunt, and I on an evening out. Except I'm usually the designated driver, darn it.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #31: Booze plus dragons turns out about as well as one would imagine.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 3**

"To Rum Fire?" Steve asked as he guided the Camaro away from the curb outside of Brooklyn's house. His smirk was still in place from the surfer girl flirting with him from afar.

"How about more of a local hangout?" Chin suggested from the backseat. "I know a good place not too far from here."

"Sounds good. Just tell me where to go."

Danny's hand fluttered out. "How come when I suggest somewhere different I always get shot down, but when Chin suggests a place you immediately ask how to get there?"

"Because I really don't want to go to Rum Fire, either," Steve responded plainly.

"Oh, so it's okay if _you_ don't want to go somewhere, but heaven forbid the passenger actually wants to go somewhere different than you do."

"Driver chooses."

"It's not even your car! The owner of the vehicle should determine where said vehicle is being driven to, not the man that decided to abduct my car and then rarely allow me to drive it."

"Do you want to go to Rum Fire?"

"No, not really, but that's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

Chin set his hands on their shoulders. "Gentlemen, if you could act your age when we get there, that would be nice. I really don't want to get kicked out of this bar."

* * *

The bar was tucked into an area between two residential neighborhoods. A nail salon, a frozen yogurt shop, a dollar store, and a few other small businesses shared the same lot with it. There was a larger shopping center across the street and a gas station a few blocks down. Lots of trees and landscaping made it blend into the surrounding upscale developments.

Steve parked out front and eyed up the front of the building. "I've never heard of it."

"That means it's doing its job," Chin led them through the tinted front door into a lobby area.

A bouncer stood at another door.

"This isn't a club, is it? I'm a little beyond the years of clubbing," Danny said.

"Don't worry, brah."

The bouncer squared his shoulders as they approached. "Boys got ID?"

Chin held up his arm, bronze scales flashing to the fore. Catching on to exactly what kind of bar this was, Danny and Steve did the same. The bouncer nodded and held the door open for them.

Being a dragon and mixed blood bar did not make it look different than any other bar, save for two fully shifted dragons spread out on mats on the floor on one side of the room. Screens showing various games, both live and recorded, hung at strategic places behind the counter and on the walls. It was a mixture of booths, tables, and barstools. A couple of pool tables and dart boards were towards the back, half of them already occupied by groups of people.

"I thought the only dragon bar was at the market?" Steve furrowed his brows as they sat at the bar counter.

Chin shook his head. "Devil's Den has been here almost as long as I can remember."

"Evening, gents," a woman with blonde hair slicked back into a braid smiled at them. "What can I get started for you?"

The drink menu was too enticing to go with just their standard Longboards.

* * *

One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right. Don't trip and fall off the curb. Don't give Steve the pleasure of laughing at him. Left, right, left. He could see his partner's feet doing much of the same dance. Chin, on the other hand, apparently could handle his booze better than the pair of them could.

"Man," Steve grinned once they made it to the car. "They put _way_ too much Devil's Tongue in those drinks."

"I think I heard the bartender say 'oops' when she was mixing that last round," Chin snorted a laugh.

"You never want to hear 'oops', no matter where you're at or what you're doing. You never, ever want to hear your dentist say 'oops'," Danny confirmed. He braced one hand on the hood of the car and pointed a finger at Steve as he dug the keys out of his pocket. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Uh, getting in the car?"

"As a sworn officer of the law, it is my duty to arrest you for even thinking about driving, McGarrett. All three of us are over the legal limit and there is no way in hell I'm going to let you wreck my car and kill me all in one whack."

"I'm not going to drive. I was just going to grab my phone. Have some faith, bud."

"The Neanderthal that is swaying back and forth tells me to have some faith," Danny giggled. "Have faith about what? That one day you'll inevitably put us both in the ground?"

Steve waved him off as he leaned in the car and almost fell forward into the driver's seat. He gripped the door and pulled himself back up, holding his phone up triumphantly. Danny, however, had his attention focused on the store to their left.

"You know what sounds good?"

"Somehow miraculously not getting a hangover in the morning?" Chin asked.

"Frozen yogurt," Steve had followed where he was looking and was grinning.

The three of them meandered their way down the sidewalk to the front of the store. Chin held up his hand as he read a piece of paper taped to the inside of the glass.

"Says cash only. Their card reader is busted," Chin patted his back pockets. "You guys got any cash?"

"Gave the rest of mine as a tip to the Devil Tongue happy bartender," Danny shook his head, stumbling a little as the ground tilted with the movement.

Steve caught him and shuffled his feet to keep his balance. "That gas station had an ATM."

Chin hooted with laughter. "Yeah, alright, let's walk two blocks with two guys that can barely stand."

"Ha! You underestimate me, Chin Ho," Danny pushed away from Steve and stubbornly started walking down the sidewalk.

"Brah? Other way," Chin pointed right.

Danny pivoted and went that way. Chin and Steve laughed and followed him. Steve was just as adamant at proving he could walk a straight line. As they walked on the streetlamp lit sidewalk, Chin hung behind the two partners to make sure one or the other didn't just fall over. Steve's straight line was more of a squiggle while Danny remarkably kept to the edge of the sidewalk so that if he missed a step he would pitch over into the green grass and trees rather than the street.

Chin blinked and rubbed his eyes. Oh yeah, there had definitely been too much Devil's Tongue in the last round. They would so be paying for that in the morning.

"Yo, Danny."

"Yo, Steven."

"Why can't you fly?"

"No."

"But it's my one question for the day!"

"No, it isn't. You already used your question while we were at the bar. It was a very inappropriate question if I remember correctly."

"Oh, come on, man."

"What is this one question a day thing that you guys have got going on?" Chin asked. "You've been doing this for almost two months."

"Steve, being the sensitive child that he is, felt hurt that I wouldn't tell him anything about my dragon type. So I compromised and told him that he could ask one free question a day. It was a mistake on my part, because I've been paying for it."

"He's super bad about answering them. I have to be careful how I ask my question, 'cause he's like a genie that will screw you over if he sees an opportunity."

"That's not true. He tries to get away with asking more than one question by wording them slyly. One time he even tried to save up questions by not asking anything for a week and then trying to ask seven questions at once."

"I say you still owe me."

"We play by my rules. If you let your question of the day expire there is no refund."

"You two are _lolo_ ," Chin grinned.

* * *

Danny lingered in the open door of the gas station's refrigerator longer than was necessary. The chilly air felt so nice. He and Chin had gathered a few bottles of water, hoping to lessen the headaches they would have in the morning while Steve had gone to take a leak.

"I hope Super SEAL didn't fall in," Danny said with a smirk. "I don't think his swimming skills will help him in a shallow porcelain bowl."

Chin clapped him on the shoulder. "You are the only person I know that can still form a coherent sentence with big words after drinking as much Devil's Tongue as you did."

"Says that man that just used coherent in a sentence," Danny's smirk broadened into a smile with a small laugh. "Consider it a gift or a curse, my brain just never quite shuts off."

The cashier at the front of the gas station cursed loudly. On a normal day, that would have made them jump, but that evening they just turned around to see what was going on.

A partial laugh, partial huff escaped Danny's throat. "That's just our luck, huh?"

A robbery in progress? Oh yes, that was definitely just their luck. What were the chances that the same gas station that the three intoxicated officers were in would get robbed while they were in it?

Danny's brain sluggishly switched to cop mode as they crouched down before they could be seen. The perp was in dragon form. Some type of Drake/Arboreal crossbreed was his guess. Maybe six feet tall at the head. His scales were a swampy green and rough looking. Even the teeth he was baring at the cashier weren't all that impressive, looking yellowed and gapped.

"All the money from the register in the bag, now!"

Easy take down, for sure.

Chin gripped his wrist before he could move. "Not worth it. Two tipsy officers would just cause a bigger problem."

His brain latched onto that and his non-plastered self smacked him. The guy could take the money and then leave. Simple as that. Even if his cop instincts said to intervene, he also realized that doing so would be bad. No one had to get hurt or anything because an unarmed officer fell on his face trying to stop a robbery.

Danny poked Chin in the ribs and hissed, "Someone better let Steve know that."

Steve wandered out of the bathroom at the front of the store and paused. Danny chopped his hands in a halting gesture while trying not to attract the attention of the robber. It was a lost cause, he could already tell. His partner's laser focus was zeroed in on the situation at hand.

The robber glanced at him. "Hey, you! Down on the ground!"

"Woah, man, I'm not looking for any trouble," Steve raised his hands and took a wobbly step forward.

"Oh god, shoot me now so I don't have to watch," Danny mumbled, hiding his face behind one hand and peeking out through the cracks in his fingers.

"Stop! Don't take another step forward, or I'll…I'll…bite you. Yeah, I'll show you how bad a dragon bite hurts," the robber snarled.

It started as a chuckle and then morphed into a full blown laugh. Steve put his hands on his knees and looked down the aisle at them. "Can you believe this guy? He thinks he's scary."

The robber looked their way and drew himself up taller, attempting to make himself look bigger. "You two better stay right there. And what the hell is taking you so long with that cash old man?!"

"Should I show him what a _real_ dragon bite feels like, Danny?" Steve grinned drunkenly at him.

"No, you idiot, just sit your ass on the ground and shut up!" Danny's hands waved wildly through the air. "I can't be your backup when I'm not even sure I can get back up off the ground!"

But Steve was already doing what he was going to do. It didn't matter if he was sober or could barely walk down the sidewalk, Steve was a smooth shifter. He just sort of snaked out of his clothes while he shifted and in under five seconds he stood staring the robber down. He bared his pearly teeth, the long upper fangs being much more impressive than the robber's teeth.

He took a step forward and almost ate it on the slick tile floor, ruining the intimidating illusion.

"I don't believe this," the cashier ducked under the counter.

The robber's eyes widened, but then narrowed. He flipped a box of Skittles at Steve and turned tail. Steve half-lunged, half-fell and snapped his teeth on his tail. He tried to drag him backwards, claws slipping and sliding on the floor. The robber snagged a rack of two-liter bottles of soda and started lobbing them like grenades.

"Remind me to never let Steve drink Devil's Tongue again," Danny muttered as he scrambled upright.

One of the bottles exploded on the floor and Steve's front feet slid out from under him. His teeth rattled as his head hit the floor. The robber jerked his tail free.

"You know, buddy, I was just going to let you take the money and scram, but since my partner decided to get involved I can't let you go now," Danny placed himself between the doors and the robber.

The robber rushed him. Danny backpedaled out of the way, tipping a rack of chips over as he did so. The robber tripped over them and rammed his head into the glass with a resounding thunk.

Danny laughed and then swore as the robber's lashing tail clipped him upside the face, sending him sprawling into shelves full of snacks.

Chin took his chance to shove the stand holding the remaining sodas onto the robber's back. Very shaken up bottles rolled away and one more exploded, glugging as its contents spilled out on the floor.

Danny stood back up shakily, holding a hand to his eye. He surveyed the destruction. It reminded him of his rookie days as a cop when he had to respond to a call about a deer breaking into a gas station. It was an absolute disaster.

The cashier peered over the counter at him.

"Sorry, about the…uh, mess," he set a few bills down for the water bottle he'd managed to hold on to throughout the ordeal and stepped over the pinned would-be robber.

* * *

Duke sighed heavily, hands on his hips as he looked at the three Five-0 officers perched on the curb around the corner and out of sight of the gas station. He thought he'd never see the day when they needed backup that wasn't case related.

The Commander was human again, having donned a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that Duke kept in his car just for occasions such as this. He was quietly munching on Skittles, rubbing his jaw every so often.

Detective Williams sipped from a water bottle and shot his partner a glare every minute or so. Purple was blooming across his cheekbone, making his right eye puffy and swollen. He was uncharacteristically quiet as well.

The Lieutenant was the one that had filled him in on what had happened and why it had gone down the way it had. He didn't look as tipsy as the other two and was lacking any of the bruises the other two had gained from halting a robbery in progress.

"Devil's Tongue?" Duke questioned lightly.

The three of them nodded numbly.

He fought away his smirk. "Do you boys need a ride home?"

"Do you think you could make a quick stop first?" the Commander asked.

* * *

Danny adjusted the icepack on his face with a groan. On the other side of the couch, Steve was equally holding an icepack to his jaw where it had connected with the floor. Chin had the TV on low, enjoying his injury free state and finishing off his frozen yogurt.

Duke had been indulgent, and more than a little amused, when Steve had asked if they could run by the frozen yogurt shop before being escorted back to Danny's house. Being the good man that he was, he allowed them to get their treat and then dropped them off at the house while one of his officers drove the Camaro back.

In the morning, after the Devil's Tongue had worn off, Danny was going to throttle his teammates. It was always Steve's fault, but he was willing to let Chin share the blame since it was his idea to go somewhere that actually used the dragon grown herb in their drinks to induce a buzz faster so that alcohol resistant dragons could enjoy themselves. He was not currently enjoying himself. There was a throttling in the works.

That was, there would be a throttling if his head didn't feel like it was going to roll of his shoulders in the morning.

The front door opened.

He turned and saw Grace and Kono walk in. Both of them looked ruffled. Hopefully they had a better time than they had.

"How was the baby shower?"

Kono stared at the three of them, her eyes widening. "What happened to you guys?"

* * *

 **Well, that's what our boys got up to. Devil's Tongue is not to be trifled with. ;)**

 **Next week on "Dragons", it's a crossover. A valuable painting goes missing and one team decides the other team is absolutely nuts.**

 **Thanks you for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! And don't forget to mention any ideas or prompts if you've got them! I still enjoy getting feedback on what you'd like to see and have added a few things you lovely reviewers have mentioned to upcoming chapters. :)**


	33. Fact 32

**There's snow in the forecast for my area. This pleases me greatly. Unfortunately, snow has nothing to do with this chapter.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #32: If it's crafted by those with claws, it's guaranteed to be worth something.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 3**

The man standing in the bullpen chatting with Danny took Steve by surprise when he walked in. Suit, tie, gun, straight posture. He was some type of law enforcement, of that much he was sure. If he was going to take a gamble he would say FBI. But what was Danny doing talking to an FBI agent? His partner was relaxed, not uptight or defensive, which meant it probably had nothing to do with his brother's case.

"Who's your new friend?" he asked as he stalked over.

"Agent Burke, this is my partner and boss, Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett," Danny flicked a hand out at him.

The name Burke clicked in his head. He extended his hand, saying, "Danny's mentioned you before."

"And I've heard of you," Burke shook his hand firmly. Steve shot a glance at his partner which the agent caught and clearly read. He shook his head. "Not from Detective Williams. Your taskforce has gotten itself quite the reputation with other agencies."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Steve asked.

"Both," Burke deadpanned. "To me, your immunity and means just seems like an excuse to run roughshod over an entire island and trample on rules and protocols that were put in place for a reason."

Danny turned towards Steve. "See, I told you that hanging a guy off a building and throwing another in a shark cage would eventually get out and start turning heads."

"Wait, you guys actually did those things?"

Steve looked at the other man he hadn't noticed before sitting in a rolling chair. He was younger with a slick suit and a fedora perched on his knee. His bright blue eyes and tousled dark hair and charming smile screamed all the wrong things to him. This guy was definitely _not_ FBI.

"Lieutenant Commander, this is Neal Caffrey, my criminal informant," Burke gestured to him.

"You see, Agent Burke and I met when a string of burglaries in Newark led to a storage unit being discovered," Danny said. "Unbeknownst to us, that unit was one of the smaller caches of one Neal Caffrey, or at least belonged to one of his aliases."

"You can't prove any of that," Neal grinned again. It seemed cheerful, but Steve took it as smug.

"Once word got out about what we had found, the White Collar division in New York swooped down and snatched the case out of the hands of us poor mortal cops," Danny's hands mimicked the swooping action that had occurred.

"Don't sell yourself short, Williams, you and your partner did some good work that turned up a couple of clues that pointed us to Neal's location in Europe. Unfortunately, he was already gone by the time we got agents on the ground there, but we caught up to him eventually. Isn't that right, Neal?"

The smug look waned and Steve smirked. He turned his attention back to his partner and the agent, "So what is a New York based White Collar agent doing in Hawaii?"

Burke shifted on his feet and set his hand on his holster. "A piece of art from a smuggler's penthouse in Manhattan went missing during a raid two weeks ago. All the evidence points to it being here on Oahu."

"And you'd rather work with us instead of the FBI to find a piece of art that you guys misplaced? You just said you don't approve of our methods," Steve crossed his arms over his chest.

"Trust me, I don't approve of your methods. My division in New York believes that there was a leak and that we may have a mole in the FBI," Burke narrowed his eyes at him. "A mole that we have evidence to suggest works at the FBI field office here."

"That's why you're here," Steve said. It made sense now. He couldn't trust his own agency. "Why turn to us and not HPD?"

"Despite your complete disregard for proper procedure, I've never seen a team with a higher success rate," Burke sighed. He tilted his head towards his partner. "I don't know who to trust on this island, but I trust Williams' instincts. If he works with you, then you must be clean."

"Is it true that one of you strapped a man to the hood of your car with bungee cords?" Neal asked.

Steve considered pointing his finger at Danny, but for once held back. He didn't feel like causing an issue for the time being. Maybe after the case he would clear the air about the things they had done to suspects and who did what. He had heard a few rumors, some of them hyperbolized true things and others were just plain made up, and he wondered how much of that had become water cooler talk on the mainland.

"Hey, how come we weren't invited to the party?"

Chin and Kono both walked in, carrying the new tactical vests that were to replace their old ones. Danny had anxiously been waiting for them to arrive. Apparently, they held up under fire better than their current ones.

"Hi," Neal stood up smoothly and offered his hand to Kono. "I'm Neal."

Kono perked a brow as iridescent white scales patterned across Neal's face, accenting his eyes and shining in the light. It was a bold move for a mixed blood or dragon to reveal themselves like that.

"Neal," Burke sounded like he was scolding a young child for sticking their hand in the cookie jar. "Just because you have scales doesn't mean you have to show them off whenever you get the chance."

"What's the harm, Peter?" Neal smiled that charming smile that irked Steve.

Danny's hands danced around, sweeping between the group that was gathered. "What's the harm? You hear that, Steve? He wants to know the harm. Since I'm a decent man, I'll tell you the harm instead of letting you find out on your own. One, that man right there that looks like he was chiseled from a slab of marble? That's her cousin, Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly, also known as Shotgun Kelly. Two, Miss Kalakaua here can and will mess up your pretty face with a well-placed right hook if need be."

"And three?" Burke asked with a slightly amused snort.

"And three, she's our teammate. If we see something we don't like, we'll feed you to _our_ CI," Danny grinned.

"Which one? The human trafficker?" Steve was completely game to play right along with his partner.

"No, not Sang Min. We don't even know where that shrimp is. I meant the CI that could actually eat him."

"Ah, the man that literally knows everything that happens on this island," Chin nodded. "We call him Kamekona."

"Guys, I'm right here. I don't need the three of you to treat me like the little sister," Kono huffed good naturedly as she walked by and set two of the vests down by their firearm locker.

"You're right," Chin agreed and then leveled Neal with a hard gaze. "Besides, Neal here won't try anything."

Burke cracked a smirk at the young man. "Well, I don't think I've ever seen you so thoroughly shot down before."

"I guess we all need humbled from time to time," Neal retracted the glittering scales.

Getting back on topic from the odd and abrupt exchange, Steve asked, "What are we helping you do, exactly?"

"I have two of my people that I trust explicitly at the field office examining it from the inside. In the mean time, I need your taskforce's help tracking down the missing piece of art," Burke said. "Neal has a faint idea of who might have gotten their hands on it, but it's a tenuous lead at best. This drive has the case file on it."

"What's the piece called?" Kono asked as she took the drive and booted up the smart table.

" _Temple of the Dragon_."

Danny's brows went up. "I thought that piece was destroyed in World War II?"

Suddenly Steve felt bad for skipping out on taking an art history class in high school. It seemed that his partner, Burke, Neal, and Chin all knew what this piece was and at least part of its history. Fortunately for him, Kono seemed to be in the same boat he was.

"Is it a painting?" she asked.

"Not just any painting," Neal said animatedly. The smile he was wearing this time was genuine and didn't seem like he was trying to con anyone into liking him. "It's one of a set of three done by Agostino Beneventi in the early 1800s. One was destroyed during the war and the other is at the Louvre in France, but there has always been rumors in the underworld that _Temple of the Dragon_ survived."

"Is that why it's so valuable?" Kono was busy typing and missed the shocked look on Neal's face.

"That's part of the reason, of course, history like that can make a piece valuable, but it's painted with dragon blood."

"Dragon blood?" Steve questioned.

Neal nodded and his voice sobered a little bit. "Beneventi was one of the only artists use it as a medium. It's still not known to this day if he was a dragon and used his own blood, or if he got it from a more unscrupulous source."

"That's why they're nicknamed the Bleeding Pieces," Chin added.

Kono finished loading the drive's information and with a simple flick of her fingers put it up on the hanging screens. Surveillance photos of multiple art pieces littered the screens, but one stood out amongst them.

Steve inwardly admitted that, even though he wasn't an art lover, the _Temple of the Dragon_ had a certain something about it that attracted the eye and defied other pieces he had seen from the same time period. It was beautiful and violent, serene and haunting all at the same time.

He made a note to research the other two pieces later.

"How much is it worth?" he asked.

Burke pursed his lips as Neal answered, "Two hundred and twenty million dollars."

A silence settled over the bullpen.

"You know what they say," Danny broke the silence, slowly rubbing his hands together. "If it involves dragons, it's worth something."

* * *

 **White Collar was a fun show. Kind of miss it. But Neal better keep his flirting in check. ;)**

 **Thursday on "Dragons", the case goes sideways and the Five-0 team barely bats an eye while Burke's team wonders what else could go wrong.**

 **You guys have any suggestions for team building activities? I have a handful of chapters focusing on that and wouldn't mind some input from you guys. Thanks for your continued support with reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	34. Fact 33

**Snow, snow, snow, snow. Maybe if I keep repeating it we'll actually get some.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #33: Not all dragons are able to cope with a high octane job.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 3**

"Is this really just a normal day for you guys?" Neal asked, his usually charming and quiet voice all nasally from his bloody nose.

Kono nodded as a bullet sent wood splinters flying above their heads.

Their whole operation had gone sideways as was per the norm with Five-0. They'd finally managed to find Neal after his cover had been blown, but not before he'd been subjected to some interrogation on the bad guys' part. And then the bullets started flying and now they were pinned down in a warehouse, because when were they not pinned down in a warehouse?

"You okay, brah? Meathead over there went to town on you," Kono glanced back at him.

Neal touched the blood still dripping from his nose. "I still have all ten fingers, so I'm going to consider myself lucky."

* * *

Peter fired two rounds over the top of the wooden shipping crate at one of the bodyguards. He rarely, if ever, had need of extra ammunition, but he was going to have to reload soon. McGarrett ducked down next to him, shoving another magazine into his gun. It was obvious to Peter that the Navy man was prepared for this kind of siege.

"Did you get eyes on Neal?" Peter asked. With bullets crisscrossing the warehouse, he worried that his CI may have been hit.

"Kono's got him," McGarrett said, popping up and dropping one of the men across the way. "Saw her drag him behind the crates on the north side when we breached."

Peter heard a bullet ping off one of the metal braces and bury into a crate too close for comfort. This was nuts. He was surprised one of these guys hadn't gotten killed with the way they went in without backup. Back in New York he would have had a full FBI assault team at his back if he knew he was going into a situation where armed assailants were involved.

"How about Williams? I didn't see him when we came in," he asked after he emptied his magazine and ejected it, taking more time to reload than McGarrett with his disturbingly practiced ease.

McGarrett's jaw tightened and his face went stony. Peter knew that look. One full of concern and anger. He was sure he made it whenever Neal was in trouble.

"Danny's a good cop," he said. "I'm sure he's fine."

* * *

Danny liked this woman. She was an ace shot and dished back whatever was tossed at her, whether what she dished back was a failed attempt at flirting earlier in the week or the grenade that landed at their feet five seconds prior. He had never liked an FBI agent as much as he did right at that very moment.

"You boys really do have all the fun here in Hawaii, don't you?" she said once she was crouched under the busted office window again, taking the moment to catch her breath and reload.

"Sure, if you consider raids going like this about once a week and getting shot at and almost blown up and burned to a crisp and stabbed more than the average action hero, then yes, we have barrels of fun," Danny responded.

"How's the arm?" Barrigan nodded at his arm.

He lifted his fingers off of it, wincing as the drying blood pulled at his arm hairs and the wound. Not too deep, thankfully. A few chips of scales grated against the raw flesh and it was already blushing with bruising, but it could have been a lot worse.

"It seems like Hawaii's finest criminals finally picked up the way they do things on the East Coast," he commented sourly. "The schmuck was going to cleave my arm off."

Barrigan smirked. "Good thing you're built Jersey tough, right?"

"Damn straight," Danny bumped knuckles with her and let her get back to picking off the bad guys.

* * *

Chin cocked his shotgun. The rata-tat-tat of gun fire was no surprise to him. The three cops on the taskforce all agreed that Steve physically could not set foot into any situation without a couple of rounds being exchanged. They'd even taken to setting up the occasional bet at how many minutes they could go in a raid before the first shots were fired. He had made a fair amount of money off of Danny and Kono doing that.

The FBI agent with him, however, was a bit more disturbed by the sounds emanating from within the warehouse.

"I'm calling it in," Jones said, already pulling out his phone.

"Duke's already on his way, brah. They're going to take too long," Chin eyed up the building in front of them, judging exactly how he and the FBI agent were going to enter. They couldn't just stroll in. They'd catch a bullet for sure. They had to be smart.

Jones pulled his sidearm from its holster. "You guys are insane. We need to wait for backup."

Chin raised his brows and quirked a grin at him. "We _are_ the backup."

* * *

"Do these guys ever run out of ammunition?" Peter questioned.

McGarrett slid his magazine out, doing a quick count before shoving it back in. "I've got five shots left. You?"

"Two."

"I thought Caffrey said these guys were art fences, not gun runners?"

"They've obviously expanded their business. This is why you don't run into a situation half-cocked, McGarrett! If we had SWAT like I originally wanted, we would already be hauling these guys off in cuffs."

"SWAT would've taken too long. Caffrey would've been dead."

Peter wanted to argue that logic six ways to Sunday, but he was forced to admit that the taskforce leader was right. Had they been five minutes later Neal would have been dead and who knew what would have become of Williams. He wasn't sure what had become of him anyway.

"So what's your plan? Once we run out of bullets we'll be sitting ducks."

"I'm working on it," McGarrett grunted.

Peter's brows furrowed. "You're working on it?"

McGarrett glared at him.

* * *

Kono yelped and fell backwards. Neal scrambled over to her, offering a hand to help her up. She coughed as she looked over her chest. She fingered a still hot crumpled bullet lodged in the fabric and huffed.

"New vests work," she breathed out a sigh of relief.

Neal grinned smoothly despite the cuts on his face and the blossoming bruises. "You guys really are insane."

"This?" she glanced around their hiding spot. "This isn't even in the top ten shoot outs I've been in."

"I want to say you're pulling my leg, but after working with you guys for a week I have a feeling you're not."

"I don't think one of the boys has gotten shot yet, so we're doing good. We may not even need a hospital afterwards."

"You guys _are_ insane."

"You should come during tourist season."

* * *

Danny just happened to look upwards at the right moment. He was sure there was movement on the roof around the skylights. He got to his knees to get a better look. The office they were perched in was up high on the second floor, so the bad guys were having a hard time shooting at them, thus why they had lobbed a grenade at them. At the same time, even though they had a higher vantage point, Barrigan couldn't curve her bullets over crates and forklifts.

They would have to be up really high. Like the skylights.

"How often does an FBI sting go like this?" he asked. He had known Burke for a number of years now, and he didn't seem like the kind of guy to go in without backup. Unlike a certain someone he knew.

"You mean, how many shoot outs have I been in like this?" Barrigan paused and pulled to the side of the window behind the wall. "Not many. Usually, our perps see our guns and the big white letters 'FBI' on our jackets and surrender."

"Huh," Danny's face split into a grin as he laughed. "Maybe we need big white letters on our jackets. Think that would persuade them into surrendering?"

"If they don't surrender after McGarrett barks at them, I don't know what to tell you. I'm almost out."

"I'm imagining Steve has gone through all four of his magazines, his backup, and is going to start pulling out the flashbangs. Good thing the cavalry has arrived."

* * *

Kelly and Jones made quick work of the rest of the men from their vantage point through the open skylights. It didn't take long after that to round up the dinged up ones and cuff them. Now, they were tending to their injured ones.

"Boss, we're listening to Danny the next time we order gear," Kalakaua held up her vest after she peeled out of it. "He was right. These ones are better."

"See, I told you we needed new tactical gear," Williams waved his left hand at his partner. "And just as I predicted, it came in handy."

Peter wiped his brow and turned to Neal. His CI sat quietly on the bumper of the ambulance while an EMT cleaned the scrapes and abrasions on his face and arms.

"How're you doing?" he asked.

Neal shrugged, wincing. "I'm appreciating our job in New York a lot more."

Peter shot a look at the other team that were now locked in a debate over proper procedure, a debate that he was sure was nothing new. An outsider might see a group of people arguing, but he could spot the underlying meaning of their conversation. They were a family that was glad they were all alive.

"What happened?" Peter asked softly, turning his attention back to his CI. He prided himself on being tough, but it hurt him to see the bruises forming on Neal's ribcage and the dried blood where the flesh had split. "I thought you said you were meeting with an art fence and the buyer?"

"I was," Neal said. "I was supposed to, anyway. The fence was there, but I don't know who the others were."

"Hired muscle?"

"Maybe. They were loading a crate of guns into the van in there."

"Seems our fence was doing more than selling art."

Neal dug his fingers through his hair. "At least _Temple of the Dragon_ was still there."

"And it's the real one? Not a forgery?"

Neal shook his head, a small smile appearing. "No, it's the real one."

McGarrett and Williams both stalked over to them, leaving Barrigan and Jones to help Kelly and Kalakaua with their perps.

"The buyer wasn't here, huh?" Williams looked at Neal.

"They said they were going to be here, but it was just the fence."

"Well, one of the dead guys is someone _we_ recognize," Williams jerked a thumb at the bodies being loaded into the ME's vehicle.

"His name was Antonio Gutierrez, part of a gun and drug running ring we busted up three weeks ago," McGarrett said.

"We were closing in on them and double checking some of our leads before we finalized things on our end to make a move. Steve, Chin, and I got ambushed and locked in a freezer," Williams flicked a hand out. Always talking with his hands. That hadn't changed, Peter thought. "Kono finally figured out where we were and got Duke and the boys to round up the gang, but a few of them slipped away."

"At least we have the painting," Peter sighed. There was one win to all of this. "From what Diana and Jones have gathered, the leak has gone back to the mainland."

"I guess that means you'll be leaving, then?" Williams asked.

"The Bureau has arranged a private jet for us to escort _Temple of the Dragon_ back to New York safely. We leave in the morning," Peter said.

"I see how it is. You guys get to track down the smooth criminals while we get the gun runners," Kalakaua pointed a finger at them as she none the too kindly pushed one of the fairly uninjured perps into the back of a cruiser.

Peter nodded. "We'll keep looking for the leak and for the buyer."

"If any information about either of them comes to us, we'll send it your way," Kelly said as he approached along with the others.

"I guess for now, we'll stick to the gun runners," Williams said.

"They're more exciting than art thieves," McGarrett's eyes darted to Neal and then to his partner.

"I think you mean more stupid. It doesn't take many brain cells to hold a gun to someone's head. Anything to deal with art heists or conmen takes a certain amount of intelligence," Williams countered. "You just don't like those cases because nothing explodes."

McGarrett gestured to the warehouse. "There were grenades involved in this one."

"Only because there were gun runners here. What is it with you…."

Peter shared a look with his team. Hawaii may have been beautiful and the Five-0 taskforce may have been an elite and effective team, but he wouldn't trade anything in the world for their jobs and way of life. Give him a conman over a gunman any day.

* * *

 **Everything in White Collar is so smooth, and Five-0 is so totally shoot first, ask questions later. I really love both flavors, but of course you can probably guess which one stole my heart. ;)**

 **Next week on "Dragons", squadrons of dragons flew in WWI and WWII and a picture of a squadron leads to a startling discovery. Then a team member collapses for no apparent reason with strange symptoms.**

 **And I'm giving you guys an early warning, starting at the new year I'm only going to be updating once a week instead of twice. Probably won't be forever, but I have some other projects I want to work on and stuff, so I'll be posting only on Tuesdays starting in January. Thanks for sticking with me with the reading and reviews!**


	35. Fact 34

**Well, we got an inch of snow that promptly melted the next day. Fat lot of good that did us.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #34: Dragons have long stood as symbols of bravery, nobility, and protection.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

Wood splinters flew past his ear at high speed as a bullet impacted with the bar counter. Danny threw himself flat on the floor, twisting up to fire two rounds at their suspect.

"Steve, he's bolting around the back," he yelled into the receiver on his tactical vest while scrambling to his feet.

He bit back a curse as his knee grabbed and he had to catch himself on a barstool. That's what five days of running nonstop and island hopping would do. It felt like ages since he had actually sat down to eat a proper meal or have a nice relaxing beer. He'd been sustaining himself on fast food and bad coffee for far too long.

A muffled yell and a solid thwack came from around the back.

He moved through the kitchen with his gun at the ready. Chin appeared behind him, following him out of the rear exit into the sun spilling over the back of the building.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day," Danny commented.

The owner of the bar was standing over their perp holding one of those big bags of ice that stores and gas stations sold.

"Guess you could say it was a cool ending for our case," Chin deadpanned.

"You're a real stand-up comedian, you know that?" Danny tucked his gun back into its holster as Chin rolled their perp onto his stomach and cuffed his wrists behind his back.

"I'll be here all week," Chin said with a small grin.

Steve and Kono raced around from the front of the building, slowing as they took in the scene.

"Woah, what happened?" Kono asked.

"Xena, Warrior Princess here, took him out with a bag of ice," Danny gestured to the bar owner.

Michelle Wilks was a big woman, big enough that Danny was sure she could probably swing him around like he was a bag of ice. While she was intimidating in that respect, she had a warm and inviting smile which she displayed as she slung the bag of ice over her shoulder.

"That's what he gets for chipping my bar counter."

* * *

The smell of meat on the grill and freshly cut vegetables had Steve drooling before the food ever hit the table.

Michelle insisted that they stay for dinner. It was on the house for saving her and her son when their perp had taken them hostage once they started to close in on him. They had forced him to be in a flat out run in a game of chase for the better part of a week without allowing him to pause for a breath, culminating in the bar shootout. Now their smuggler was on his way back to Oahu and they were sitting down to a much deserved meal.

"Michelle, you're killing us, babe, how much longer?" Danny shouted in the direction of the kitchen.

"Don't have a panic attack, I'm comin'," Michelle waltzed out of the kitchen with her teenage son in tow, both of them carrying plates of hamburger sliders, thick cut fries, crunchy onion rings, and chicken wings smothered in secret sauce.

The team inhaled half of the food in under five minutes. They only slowed down to enjoy the taste of the tangy, fiery sauce and the ice cold beer with a perfect foamy head on top once their initial hunger was satisfied.

Steve glanced over at the mother and son pair while they swept up bits of glass from the bar counter and floor. He wiped sauce from his mouth with a napkin and sat back in the booth, eyes roving about the cozy business.

"How long have you owned this place?" he asked.

Michelle set her elbow on the counter. "It was my grandfather's. He built this place with his two bare hands, going from the ground up. It's been in the family for almost seventy years."

"Looks pretty good for a seventy year old bar," Danny said, waving a hand around at the well preserved booths and flooring.

"What gave you the idea for the name?" Kono pointed at the letters scrawled across the mirror wall behind the counter.

"Sky Devils?" Michelle glanced around behind her. She tapped her son on the shoulder. "Honey, grab me that picture off the wall there."

Her son carefully took a framed photograph off its hooks and handed it across the counter to her. She walked over with a fond grin on her face, fingering the smooth wooden frame before flipping it around to display the old black and white photo protected behind the glass.

"My grandfather was with the Sky Devils Squadron during World War II," she said.

Steve made a small gesture and she handed the frame to him. An almost giddy feeling crept up on him as he examined the picture intently. Not many photos of these types of squadrons existed.

There were eight grayscale people in it. Three men in bomber jackets were up front, two of them perched or leaning on wooden crates and the third standing, with five fully shifted Wyverns clustered behind them. The variety amongst the body builds of the dragons led to Steve believing that a few of them were crossbreeds, though they all looked completely flight capable.

"Which one was your grandfather?" Steve asked.

Michelle tapped one Wyvern's face with her nail, so as to not smudge the glass. "This is him right here. Went by the callsign Torch."

"Any specific reason why that was his callsign?" Chin asked.

"You know how you get your callsign. Either by the way you look or by something spectacularly stupid you did," Michelle said.

"Grampa always told me it was 'cause Great Grampa used the methane and oxygen method of breathing fire," her son said.

"Well, that was one reason," Michelle smiled cheekily. "But I had always heard that it had to do with an incident involving an acetylene welding torch and a coffee tin."

Steve smirked as Danny scooted closer to get a better look at the photo. "Do you know the other guys in it?"

"Sure do," Michelle said. "The three boys up front were Joseph Jones, Fred Brown, and Robert Wilson, but Grandad said they all knew them by Hawk, Tick, and Leech."

"Do we even want to know the stories behind those callsigns?" Kono laughed.

"Their callsigns actually had more to do with their jobs," Michelle pointed at the harnesses strapped around their waists. "These guys would ride on the backs of the Wyverns when they were flying into an area they knew had enemy dragon squadrons."

"They were gunners," Steve said.

Michelle nodded. "If other dragons attacked, they were armed and ready."

"I'm assuming that dear old Torch was one of the ones that could actually have a gunner on his back, just judging from his size, right?" Danny asked.

"Grandad, this big guy in the middle," she pointed again, "Boar was his callsign, and then this guy on the end here, Salsa. They were the biggest out of the five and could carry the boys if need be. Then Wasp and Java were the quick maneuverers."

Steve loved hearing about this kind of history. He was even more thrilled that there was a photo to go along with it. Squadrons like this one were not necessarily needed in the modern age since the rise of technology, but a few of them still existed and were active, though he knew them to be more of a black ops nature now.

He turned to Danny, who was frowning and squinting at the photo with a certain look that told Steve that the gears were grinding in his mind. It was a look that usually only popped up when they were working a case and going over a paper trail or security footage that was being particularly frustrating.

"Kono, who does this look like to you?" Danny took the frame from Steve and held it out to Kono, pointing at Java on the right hand side of the photo.

Kono stared, her brows knitted up in concentration. Then they shot up in surprise. "No way, brah, you think so?"

"Chin?" Danny swiveled the photo to show him.

"Could be. Looks pretty close to him," Chin agreed.

"Who? What are you talking about?" Steve questioned. He felt very out of the loop on this one.

"Michelle, do you know what Java's actual name was?" Danny asked.

"Jack Hughes. Why?"

"Because," Danny's hands fluttered through the air, "I think we've met a relative of his."

* * *

Danny put his hands in his pockets to keep them from nervously twitching and dancing all over the place. He had been dreading coming here and was still unsure why his partner had insisted that they come in person, but they were here now and he was refusing to let any of his anxiety show. Prisons had always been disquieting to him. Maybe it was the feeling that he had a target on his back with him being a cop.

"I'd imagine that working here isn't easy, what with all the over powered psychos and creeps that must get sent here. How many incidents a year do you guys typically have here?" he asked the guard leading them along the wall opposite of the cells.

The Native American man, whose uniform had the name Michael Charles stitched on it, hummed lowly, glancing over his shoulder at them. "No more than fifteen. Usually less."

"That's it?"

"What's the total number of inmates?" Steve asked. He ignored the wolf whistling from a female inmate trapped behind a set of massive bars as they passed her cell.

"Capacity is one hundred and seventy-five. We have one hundred and seventy," Michael said.

"Where do they send them once you guys are at capacity?" Danny asked.

"Big Farm in the middle of Nowhere, Texas," he answered.

The Ranch, where they were at in Montana, was a huge circular building. From up above in the helicopter that they had flown in on from Billings, it looked like a donut, except the empty middle was covered in a lattice work of steel bars that seemed like it could have held in King Kong. The warden had told them that was what they called the Bird Cage, which was the exercise yard.

The cells were only on the inner ring of the building. Passageways went from the cells to the Bird Cage, being closed off with heavy doors when not in use. Everything in the prison was rigged so that the guards never had to get too up close and personal with their dragon inmates.

"We call this section the Aviary," Michael chuckled as he punched in a code and the gate slid back after a buzz of acceptance.

The ceiling on the other side of the gate vaulted upwards high above their heads. Clear walls replaced the bars on the cells. Scorch marks crisscrossed a few of them.

"How's his behavior been?" Danny asked. "Any bouts of wanton destruction or attempts to set the prison on fire?"

"No."

They pulled to a halt near the end of the Aviary section just before another gate. Michael approached the clear wall that stretched all the way up to the rafters. All was quiet in the darkened cell. No black scorch marks marred the barrier. No howling or yelling or whistling came from within. It made Danny's hairs raise.

Michael rapped his knuckles on the barrier. "You have two visitors."

There was movement from high up in the cell. A shadow dripped down off of a metal perch like beam situated in the upper third of the cell, dripping down like a drop of oil onto a second beam that was lower before finally dripping down on the concrete floor.

The lights of the walkway caught him in their glow as he approached the barrier.

"He's all yours," Michael stepped back with a gesture to them.

Danny pushed his shoulders back and faced the Wyvern with a neutral expression. Last time he had seen him was when he had attempted to finish the job with Steve and he had been forced to drop an elevator car on him. Speaking of….

"Long time, no see, Gimpy," he said, flicking a few fingers out at the Wyvern.

The Wyvern's head dipped to look at himself. His left arm, wing, was sheared off at the elbow, the purplish membrane swaying with each movement like a tattered silk sheet. He kept the two massive talons of his right wing centered on the ground under his chest unnaturally, taking on a more tripod stance to stay upright.

He looked up again and his fiery orange eyes locked with Danny's. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Five-0?"

His deep and refined voice mismatched with his chaotic deeds and volatile nature that had been on display three months prior. He was cool and composed, much like when he had spoken to Danny in the hallway at the hospital and slipped right by him. There was a violent creature under that mask, but standing there in front of them, with his calm breaths fogging the barrier and with the way he was tilting his head to the side quizzically, it was hard to see it.

"When you were booked, you were booked under Unknown," Steve said, drawing his attention from Danny.

A distinctly uncomfortable feeling fluttered around with icy moth wings in Danny's stomach as he watched the Wyvern blink slowly at his partner, shifting his weight around as he did so. The way he looked at him reminded him of a cat looking at a small sparrow.

Steve equally looked fascinated with him. The pair of them hadn't really met outside of the brief incident in the warehouse, and Danny could see his partner absorbing every detail of the man that had tried to kill him.

"They call me John Doe here," he rumbled after a tense few moments of staring.

"But that's not your real name," Steve crossed his arms over his chest, glaring up at him. "You're Duncan Hughes."

The Wyvern startled. Hah! For once with this guy, Danny could tell that they had the upper hand.

"How?"

"Your great grandfather was Jack Hughes, also known as Java of the Sky Devils Squadron. We went through his records until we came across you, babe. The dark scales and neck ridge must run in the family," Danny said a bit smugly.

"You lived your life off the grid, keeping yourself out of most of the databases," Steve continued. "And you did good. Until August 18, 2005."

The Wyvern's, Duncan's, eyes narrowed and his long tail lashed and curled in agitation behind him. Danny read the hurt and pain that flashed across Duncan's face, but didn't want to acknowledge it existed. This man had tried to burn his partner alive and didn't deserve any sympathy or pity or understanding at all. Yet, one stubborn piece of him did understand, specifically the father in him understood.

He removed a folded piece of paper from his pocket, opening it up and pressing it against the barrier. "August 18, 2005 was when an anti-dragon group uncovered a dragon market in Denver and attacked it. Nine dragons, eleven mixed bloods, and sixteen humans were killed, several more were severely injured. Among those that died that day were Millie and Ali Hughes."

Much to their surprise, Duncan's scales started to disappear and in a few smooth moves his human self stood before them. His hair had gotten longer since the hospital, but the dark circles under his eyes had faded and he was clean shaven. He put his hand on the barrier, still staring at the newspaper article that Danny had printed off.

His deep, refined voice was quiet and cracked as he spoke. "Ali was only five."

"So, your wife and kid gets killed and you what? Go off the rails? Start burning people into crisps and attacking cops?" Danny asked, though not in an accusatory tone like he had intended, because if it had been Rachel and Grace that were killed there was a great likelihood that he could have found himself in a similar position. Angry at the world, burying his grief beneath the rage.

Duncan's now dark eyes held his. "May I?"

Danny folded the paper and slid it through one of the thin slots in the barrier.

Duncan held it in his hand tightly, every toned muscle in his trim body straining in emotional turmoil. He exhaled heavily and let himself go slack. With an unreadable face in place, he turned his back on them and stalked into the darker corners of his cell, but not before they got a good look at the tattoo sprawling across his back.

It was of an adult Wyvern wearing a mask and a much smaller one pulling its mask off to reveal a grinning young face. There was no mistaking the fact that the two must have been Millie and Ali.

"I'll carry the burden of their deaths for the rest of my life, knowing I failed as a protector," Duncan said quietly and tossed a look over his shoulder at them. His eyes lit up with a spark of fiery orange. "Appreciate what you have while you have it, Five-0. Life burns out far too quickly."

* * *

 **I totally have artwork for this chapter, but I'm going to have to upload it later. Maybe late next week. Have family in town and it's been difficult to get even _this_ done.**

 **Thursday on "Dragons", when a team member falls ill with baffling symptoms, it turns into a countdown before they succumb to whatever it is.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	36. Fact 35

**This is sorta a big one and I was _this_ close to forgetting to upload it today. I've been hearing the circus theme playing for the past week with all of my family in town.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #35: The smallest thing can take down anything in its path. Dragons included.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 3**

At first, Steve didn't respond to his partner's out of breath huff. They had just been hauling butt down the Hau'ula Loop Trail in pursuit of their suspect and even as a reserve Navy SEAL his heart was thundering and his legs tingled with the extra rush of blood being pumped to them. The heat and humidity that were unusual for a quarter after six in the morning in the beginning of March made it that much more of a task and his shirt stuck to his sweaty back. They were all out of breath and uncomfortable.

He only responded when Danny grabbed his arm.

"Danny?" he pivoted and shined his flashlight at him. He was caught off guard by what he saw. "Danny, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Danny swallowed. The alarmed look on his face that the beam of the flashlight illuminated unnerved Steve. "Something's not right, something…something's–"

Steve held onto his elbow as he swayed on his feet and helped lower him to the ground before he fell. His truck was only fifty yards from them on the other side of the parking lot at the trailhead.

"Think you can make it to the truck?"

Danny shook his head and put a hand over his eyes, rocking back and forth like a buoy in the water. "Not unless I want to taste dinner for a second time."

Steve nodded in understanding and peeled off his over shirt, wadded it up, and placed it under his partner's head while he pulled out his cell phone.

"Hang on, bud, I'm calling EMS," he patted his shoulder and frowned. He moved the back of his fingers up higher to his neck. "Jeez, you're burning up. Is it your stoking chamber?"

Danny removed his hand from his face, eyes locking onto his partner nervously. "No. It's something else."

With that, Steve dialed and waited.

Two balls of light came flying down the trail at them. Chin and Kono pulled to a stop, panting and darting their lights over the scene. On edge at having this dropped in their laps out of nowhere, Chin opted to relay to HPD that they'd lost their suspect and Kono took her Cruze down to the end of the trailhead road to flag down the ambulance when it came.

Steve gently shook his partner's arm as his eyes closed again and didn't reopen right away. "Danny, you've got to stay awake. Don't check out on me."

He smirked when pale blue eyes opened to half-mast, but promptly sobered as Danny sat up on one elbow and leaned over to the side, reeling for a few seconds. At first, Steve was expecting vomit or molten slag or ashes and charcoal. Was it a bad thing that he had become accustomed to that? Maybe more importantly, was it a bad thing when his concern ratcheted up a notch when neither vomit nor slag came out of his partner's mouth?

Steve furrowed his brows up at Chin as Danny drooled a copious amount of saliva. That was a totally new one on him, and he looked to the older cop in hopes that he had an idea of what this was.

"Danny, you havin' trouble swallowing?" Chin crouched next to him, keeping his light pointed at the ground so he didn't blind him.

"No," Danny spit. A grimace pinched his face and a tremor traveled down his body. "Can't stop drooling and I feel like the ground's doing a teeter totter thing."

"You aren't allergic to anything, are you?" Chin asked.

"According to my ma I was allergic to vegetables when I was little," Danny joked weakly, heaving for air as more drool dripped off his bottom lip. "I keep telling Grace I'm allergic to spam to get out of eating it with eggs after somebody made her breakfast with it in it one time, Steven. But no, to my knowledge I'm not allergic to anything. And yes, I can breathe fine."

"You're thinking it could be anaphylaxis," Steve said.

Chin held a hand up helplessly. "I don't know. If he's not having trouble breathing, then it's probably not."

Kono's little red Cruze heralded the ambulance's arrival with a cloud of dust. The sun was painting the sky at their backs in grays and yellows as it made its way towards the horizon, sprinkling enough soft light on the parking lot that they could mostly see. In another twenty minutes or so it would be up. But for now, both of the medics exited their vehicle swiftly with flashlights and trotted towards where the three men were on the gravel.

"You guys are sure out early this morning," the woman of the two said in friendly greeting. She squatted down amongst them. "I'm Ramona. What happened?"

"I don't know," Steve wiped a hand down his face and looked at her. "We were pursuing a suspect that had been spotted near the trail by a few hikers at four thirty this morning and when we got back down here, Danny said something was wrong."

Ramona nodded and shuffled closer to his partner. "Danny, can you tell me what's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that no human being should be running up and down and around hiking trails this early in the morning," Danny grunted.

Ramona glanced at Steve who shook his head.

"Not much of an outdoorsmen?" she asked as she shined her light at him, avoiding his face and instead getting a general impression of his condition.

"I prefer the concrete jungle," Danny said.

"Airway's clear," Ramona noted mostly to herself. "How's your breathing? Are you struggling or having any difficulty?"

"Only the kind that comes with not knowing why I suddenly collapsed," Danny said. He lifted his head slightly and met her eyes. "Just anxiety. Nothing like that whole fiasco with the sarin."

Ramona shot a look at her partner and then at Steve. "Sounds like you get to meet a lot of paramedics. I'm going to take your pulse, okay?"

She circled her fingers around the wrist of the arm he wasn't leaning on while her partner continued her line of questioning, "Are you dizzy? Any nausea or abdominal pain?"

"Dizzy, yes. Nauseas, yes. Pain, not really? Feels like pins and needles everywhere and spasming muscles," Danny exhaled heavily as he laid on his back again, eyes slipping closed.

"Need to take his temperature in the ambulance," Ramona said lowly. "Go grab the gurney."

Steve had his focus on the paramedic and his partner, ignoring Chin offering to help the EMT unload the gurney. His control freak nature, as Danny called it, made him want to hover closer than he was, but he knew that he needed to give the paramedic space to finish evaluating his partner. She shined the annoyingly bright penlight in Danny's eyes to check for concussion and in his nose and ears looking for discharge before doing a clean sweep of prodding and poking, searching for any kind of injury.

He forwent keeping his distance as Danny struggled upright again despite the paramedic's warning to stay still. Securing one of his hands in his and letting his partner use his shoulder as a support, he helped him into a hunched over sitting position so he could let another fountain of saliva run from his mouth.

Ramona's light flickered over the lower half of his partner's face and then down to the ground. "Over salivation. How long has that been going on?"

"Started when everything else did," Steve said.

She reached out and delicately set her hand on Danny's shoulder. "Don't worry. You're in good hands."

* * *

The ride to the ER was too long and he didn't like how warm his partner had started to feel.

He had tossed his keys to Chin and told the cousins to meet him at King's since he was riding with his partner. Ramona and her partner accompanied Danny back to an exam room and left Steve standing there by the nurses' station, feeling like someone had pulled the rug out from under him. At least this time his partner wasn't convulsing and his lips weren't turning blue. Though this one had been as sudden as the sarin incident had been, it wasn't as terrifying.

He paced and rubbed the back of his neck and then scrubbed one hand through his hair. With his hair being short as it was it didn't matter if the action turned it into a disaster, he hadn't even looked twice in the mirror before running out of his house this morning. He didn't even bother shaving as the tiny stubbles on his jaw reminded him.

"Sir, there are seats over there," one of the nurses behind the station pointed over her shoulder to where he knew the waiting room was. It was a bad sign when one was as acquainted with the hospital's layout as he was.

"I'd rather stand," he said.

"Steve, what gives? Did they say anything?"

Chin and Kono swept up behind him. Chin was calm and collected as usual while Kono's eyes were wide and questioning.

"He had a fever of 101 when we got here, and was still drooling," Steve snaked his arms across his chest, tapping his fingers against his ribcage. "Started to go in and out of it."

"He go unconscious?" Chin asked.

"No, he was just acting really lethargic."

"Where is he?" Kono looked around.

Steve nodded towards the back of the ER where Ramona and her partner were walking away from. He intercepted them before they could leave. "How is he?"

"Doctor Hale's taking a look at him right now. He'll be able to talk to you when he knows more," Ramona gave him a small smile and nod. "Might want to go get a cup of coffee or breakfast or something."

The trio reluctantly wandered off to the waiting room, Chin offering to go see if he could scrounge up a few cups of a decent brew. That left Steve and Kono to sit in uncomfortable chairs, crossing and uncrossing their legs, browsing through old magazines, wondering if they should sanitize their hands after browsing through said magazines, checking their phones, counting tiles, debating whether or not a bug in the corner of the room was a fly or a spider.

Chin finally returned, giving them a perplexed look since they were both pointing at a black dot meandering around the upper corner of the room.

"How long was I gone?" he checked his watch while balancing the tray of coffee. "An hour and a half. You guys got bored enough to be entertained by a bug within the span of ninety minutes."

"Well, does that look like a spider or a fly to you?" Kono pointed at the subject of their attention and accepted her coffee gratefully. "And really, cuz? Who takes an hour and a half to get coffee?"

Chin handed Steve his cup and then sat down across from them. "Duke called. He said that one of the responding units he sent to pick up where we left off found our guy running down the side of the road. I had to update him on the case and on what we were doing."

"He was running down the road?" Steve furrowed his brows.

"Didn't think anyone would be out so early to spot him," Chin sipped his coffee. "Welcome to Hawaii, where the tourists get up early and the locals even earlier."

"Commander McGarrett?"

Steve looked up at the man in his late forties with ear length salt and pepper hair. He pushed out of the chair and walked towards him. The man had been staring at him the whole time and didn't act like he was asking to figure out who was who, so he must have already known him.

"You must be Doctor Hale," Steve extended a hand.

Hale shook his hand. "I suppose you don't remember meeting me the first time. I was one of the attending physicians when you were brought in with burns to your chest and shoulder."

That explained why the man's face didn't register with him. "Don't exactly remember a whole lot from during that time span, but thanks for working on me."

"As my coworker said, you're a lucky man. But about Detective Williams," Hale glanced at Chin and Kono before raising a brow at Steve.

"They can hear anything you have to say," Steve said.

"Unfortunately, I don't have much to say," Hale sighed. He rubbed his hands together and motioned for them to sit again. "Can you tell me exactly what happened? What you guys were doing? If you noticed anything off with Danny?"

"Why? Is he okay?" Steve hesitantly sat on the edge of the chair, ready to spring back up at any moment.

"He's awake, but drowsy. I want to hear your side of the story to see if anything stands out," Hale explained.

Steve started from the beginning when he had gotten a call at four thirty and then roused his team from their slumbers, picking up Danny on his way out and meeting the cousins at the Hau'ula Loop Trail. They split up, the cousins going up one side and Steve and Danny going up the other. Movement on the trail behind them sent him and his partner running back down and that's when it all started.

Hale massaged his palm with his thumb while nodding along. "That matches up with what Danny told me, except I must say he has a much more colorful way of describing things."

"That's Danny," Kono laughed lightly.

"So, what's wrong with him?" Steve asked.

"Honestly, I'm not entirely sure, and I know that's not something you want to hear from the doctor looking after a friend. I'm having blood drawn to check his white blood cell count and I have him on a saline drip to keep him hydrated. At this point, I can only treat the symptoms until I find the cause," Hale said.

"Can we see him?" Kono asked.

Hale stood up and gestured for them to follow. "I had him admitted and moved to a private room on the floor above. He should be settled in by now."

He led them to an elevator where they had to wait for it to come down from a higher floor. King's was always a busy place, though it slowed somewhat during the off season when there weren't so many tourists coming in with heatstroke, sunburns, concussions from getting smacked upside the head with a surfboard, things like that. It was still bustling with nurses going back and forth around them, some trudging and others sprinting. One of the speed walking ones in particular paused as the elevator dinged.

"I had hoped that I wouldn't see you back here again so soon," a smoky, stern voice called after them as they loaded into the elevator car.

Steve poked his head out and spotted the very tall woman. "What're you doing down here? I thought you were a burn specialist?"

"Finishing up an ER shift I picked up," Mauna said. "Which one of you numbskulls got hurt this time?"

"Danny," Steve pulled back in as the elevator doors shut.

The ride up was silent and short, as was the walk to their friend's room. Two nurses, one they recognized as Kori and the other as an unknown man, were on either side of the bed performing different tasks. Danny was sitting upright in the bed, now dressed in a fashionable hospital gown and quietly chatting with Kori who was holding his hand.

"You flirting with the nurses, bud? You can't be that sick," Steve said.

Danny and Kori both looked up at them. Kori curled two fingers at Hale in a 'come here' gesture while Steve and the cousins needed no invitation to gather at the foot of the bed.

To Steve's dismay his partner was still drooling and had a washcloth in his hand to wipe the spit away from his lips and chin. He was flushed with tiny droplets of sweat clinging to his forehead and peered at them from under heavily lidded eyes. Despite the fact that his partner was actually conscious and aware while being in the hospital, which was a change of pace, he appeared worse than when he had been brought in.

"How're you feeling, brah?" Chin asked.

"Like Grace when she was cutting teeth and slobbering like a Saint Bernard," Danny emphasized his point by wiping his mouth with the cloth. "Still feels like the room's tilted and my stomach's roiling like I was driving with Steve in rush hour."

Steve frowned at the jab, but his attention was drawn to Kori and Hale. Kori still had his partner's hand in her grasp. Now that he was closer, though, he could see it wasn't a flirtatious grasp. She was showing something about his hand to the doctor.

"What's up?" Kono, too, had taken notice of the odd interaction. Her face contorted into confusion as she looked on.

"Fasciculations," Hale muttered. He caught their uncomprehending looks. "Muscle twitches. Danny, do you still have pins and needles in your limbs?"

"Yeah," Danny confirmed, swallowing thickly and laying his head back on his pillow. "Did you guys crank up the heat in here or is it just me?"

Steve glanced at the cousins. The room felt fine.

Hale pulled a thermometer out of his pocket and slid a plastic cover on it before placing the tip in Danny's ear. The way his eyes narrowed was not comforting.

"His fever's climbing," Hale looked across at the other nurse that had just finished drawing blood. "Get that down to the lab."

The dark haired man nodded once and left without so much as a word.

"Commander, I'm going to ask that you and your friends give us some privacy. I'm going to do a second examination and try to cool him down," Hale said.

"But–"

"Commander," Hale gave him an exasperated look. "I promise I'll come talk to you as soon as I know something."

Chin set a gentle hand on his shoulder and guided him out of the room. Kono shut the door behind them. Steve crossed his arms over his chest again, pacing back over by the elevator doors. He almost preferred a gunshot wound to this. At least the cause of the problem was obvious. He didn't like this not knowing.

* * *

Danny let out a breath in relief as Kori replaced the cloth on his forehead with a cooler one. She dabbed at his arms and chest with another cool cloth, all business and no smiles this time around. Beneath the spunky short cropped hair and bubbly attitude was a trained nurse, something that he appreciated right now.

"Are you sure you didn't turn the temperature up in here? It feels like I've been trying to keep up with my animal of a partner on a foot chase through the streets in the summer," he complained quietly to Kori, frowning and bringing the cloth to his face to wipe off the drool. How embarrassing. Here he was, a grown man drooling down his face while a nurse tried in vain to cool him down.

"You boys keep active, don't you?" Kori flashed him a tiny grin. "What do you do when you're not on the job?"

"Not on the job? I think I work 24/7," he snorted. "I have a daughter that I like to spend time with. When I have her, anyway."

"Divorced?" Kori asked softly. She set the cloth down and poked the thermometer in his ear again.

He grunted in affirmation. "When her mother remarried and moved half way across the world to this rock floating in the ocean, I thought I was going to fall apart then and there. Then my brother told me that, hey, they have cops in Hawaii, why not move to paradise?"

Kori's brows lowered at the reading on the thermometer.

"Some kind of paradise, huh? I've been shot, stabbed, and have almost died more times in my three years here than I did with over a decade of being a cop in New Jersey," he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Heat radiated off of his skin, the combined efforts of his sweating and of Kori barely taking the edge off.

"Your temp is 102.9 degrees, but your heartrate isn't as fast as I'd think it would be at that temperature," Kori squinted across at the monitor on the other side of the bed. "And you don't feel cold?"

"Cold? Babe, I feel like I'm one of those slow roasted pigs at one of the Luau things," he raised his hand to his forehead, breathing out slowly and steadily. He could feel the iron grip of anxiety moving in on him. Stay calm, stay calm.

"I'll be right back, Danny. I'm going to go get Doctor Hale," Kori dashed out of the room.

Danny laid there, feeling his limbs continue to tingle and fire start to spread through his veins.

* * *

Mauna stared at Steve as he finished telling her why the team was in the hospital again. They had bumped into her on the ground floor and she was curious as to why Danny had been brought in. An uneasy sensation pricked at Steve's skin at the look the tall doctor had on her face.

"What did Hale say?" she enquired.

"He was having bloodwork done and was treating the symptoms," Steve said.

Without another word, Mauna turned on her heel and smacked the up button for the elevator. Gesturing for the cousins to hang back, he followed and slipped in through the doors right behind her.

"Do you know what this is?" he questioned.

She laced her fingers behind her neck and pulled back her shoulders. "Where did you say you guys were at?"

"Hau'ula."

"If I didn't know better…." She trailed off and hurried out of the doors onto the second floor. She came to a halt after two steps and then looked back at him somewhat sheepishly. "Which room is he in?"

Steve pointed and the stern mask reappeared on Mauna's face as they pushed through the slightly open door. His eyes widened at the state of his partner. The thin sheets were tugged down to his waist and the gown left open, leaving his bare chest uncovered, and he was covered in a sheen of sweat. He looked absolutely miserable.

"Danny," he took up his post beside the bed, gripping his partner's wrist.

Mauna was more intrigued by his chart. Her amber eyes flicked over the scribbled notes and times, the crease between her brows becoming deeper by the second.

"Steve? Back so soon? And you brought company, huh?" Danny cracked his eyes open tiredly and watched the doctor at the foot of his bed with a frown.

"You're burning up, man," Steve forced a grin as his partner's eyes darted up to him.

"Oh god, I'm so hot, it's insane. I must've died and gone to Hell," Danny muttered. "I swear, if I'm dead it's your fault because you dragged me out of my bed to go running around in the jungle before the crack of dawn."

"You're not dead, Danno," he said. His jaw clenched. Why had Hale not taken care of this? Given him something to lower the fever? Then again, he wasn't cold or shivering despite being uncovered. He had said he was hot. That was more like hyperthermia, not fever. Everything was so weird. What was going on?

"Mauna? What're you doing snooping around up here?" Hale asked as he walked in followed by Kori.

"Being nosy. Sue me," Mauna snapped. She held up the clipboard with his chart. "No meds for the fever?"

"I want to wait until the bloodwork comes back," Hale intertwined his fingers and rubbed the heels of his palms against each other.

"Why?"

"It looks like a currently unidentified toxin and I don't want to give him something that's going to react badly," Hale sighed. "Why? Do you have a better idea?"

"If I was on the mainland, I know what I would say," Mauna hooked his chart back on the foot of the bed. "But here in Hawaii? It doesn't make any sense."

"You're thinking something biological, aren't you?"

Mauna scratched at the back of her neck and then stilled suddenly. "Where are his clothes?"

* * *

Steve had pulled up a chair to sit by Danny's bed and was assisting Kori with patting him down with cool cloths when Mauna returned with a sealed plastic bag, a clear plastic storage tub, and what appeared to be chopsticks in a paper package. Strange.

"Hale go down to the lab?" she asked.

"Yep," Kori nodded.

Mauna glanced at the nurse. "What's his temp?"

"Was 103.7 when I took it a minute ago," Kori said.

Mauna observed the partners for a moment. "Kori, could you give us three a minute?"

Kori made a face at her, but got up from her chair and pulled the door shut behind her.

Steve switched from looking at the door to looking at Mauna as she tore into the plastic bag and emptied it into the storage tub. "Why'd you kick her out?"

Mauna tilted her head up at them from her crouched position, pulling the paper off the chopsticks as she spoke, "Figured we needed some privacy. Danny, you're a stoker, right?"

Danny blinked and grimaced as he shifted uncomfortably. Steve had had to figure out his partner was a fire breather on his own after working with him for two months, and then it took over another two years to know his type. It wasn't a long shot to guess correctly that he was not going to easily divulge that information to even a doctor, and her eyes narrowed at that fact.

"Hey, are you a stoker or not? I already know McGarrett is some kind of Arboreal crossbreed and I know that you're either a Drake or a Cliff with those jaw muscles. I was standing right there when you dropped the elevator car on the Wyvern, remember?"

Swallowing, Danny nodded. "Yeah, but this isn't my stoking chamber, is it? I've had it act up on me before and this doesn't feel the same."

Mauna shook her head and turned her attention to the tub. "It's not. I just wanted to make sure that you weren't going to start seizing from such a high temp."

"So you're not worried about a temp of a 104?" Steve asked.

"On a human? Hell yeah, I'd be," Mauna said. "On a stoking class fire breather? No. Not really."

"Not really? If I get any hotter I may burst into flames," Danny's fingers jerked as he flicked one hand out limply at the doctor.

Mauna grunted as she used the chopsticks to prod through the clothing he had been in when he'd arrived. "I'll find a fire extinguisher."

The door creaked open and Mauna's head bobbed up. Steve turned to look, but whoever had peeked in was gone. He wondered if it had been Kori stopping by to see if she was allowed back in.

"Ha."

He looked back at Mauna.

"I knew it," she jabbed her chopsticks down into the tub and then lifted them up for him to see. A writhing green shoelace was pinched between the two wooden sticks.

"That looks like a–"

"Snake."

* * *

It was a green juvenile snake with big round eyes that had an appearance more closely resembling a vine than a reptile. Mauna had stuffed the seven inch long snake into a specimen jar and proceeded to bolt from the room, nearly running over Kori and Hale as she did. She exchanged a fierce and whispered conversation with them before Steve got his feet under him and followed her out.

"It's a snake bite?" he dodged into the elevator with her.

"Snake bite."

"Start administering the antivenin, then. What was with telling Hale to just try and keep him cool?"

Mauna inhaled deeply as they arrived on the ground floor. "Hawaii doesn't stock elapid antivenin."

Steve's brows furrowed. "How do you know that's what it is?"

"Over salivation, muscle twitches, tingling, dizziness, nausea, drowsiness, and then combine that with Danny's nature and you get a high temperature," Mauna said. "All the common symptoms of an elapid bite, but it's progressing slower because of his nature. If he wasn't what he is, he probably would've dropped from respiratory arrest by now."

"Hold on," Steve caught her by the shoulder and made her face him. They were eye level, which was a new one on him. "If Hawaii doesn't have the antivenin, what do we do for Danny?"

"Do what? What's happened?"

The cousins, who Steve had forgotten to update, met them by the waiting room of the ER. Apparently, they had been close enough to have gotten the tail end of the conversation.

"It's a snake bite," Steve said.

"A snake? In Hawaii?" Chin raised a brow at him and then Mauna.

"What was it? One of those brown tree snakes?" Kono asked.

"Not a colubrid. Elapid," Mauna said and held up the specimen jar. "Coral snakes, cobras, sea snakes, other exotic ones. Definitely not native."

"You think it was someone's illegal pet that got out?" Kono glanced at her cousin. "There was that bull snake in Brooklyn's basement a while back."

Mauna walked past them. "That's your problem, not mine."

"Where're you going?" Steve called after her.

"To go get the antivenin."

"But you just said–"

"I know what I said."

Steve growled. "Chin, Kono, go upstairs and stay with Danny. I'm going with her."

* * *

He guided the Silverado through the nine o'clock traffic, heading west towards the warehouse district. He shot a look at the passenger seat. Mauna was on the phone in the middle of a somewhat heated conversation in what sounded like Portuguese. She balanced the specimen jar on her knee, bringing it close to her face every so often when he heard an uptick in the other speaker's voice. He may not have known the language, but he knew speech patterns.

" _Obrigada_ ," she finally said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. " _Como_? _Sim_ , _sim_. _Não se preocupe_. _Tchau_."

Steve waited a beat after she had hung up. "Portuguese?"

Mauna nodded. "A friend from Brazil who's a herpetologist."

"Doesn't the zoo carry antivenins for exotic snakes?" he asked. He had been mulling that over in his mind for a while and was sure that any professional handlers carried antivenin for exotic snakes just in case.

"For the ones they have in the zoo, yeah," she said. "But, as I suspected, this is not something they're going to have in the zoo."

"What is it?" he eyed the bug-eyed shoelace coiled up in the clear jar.

"Amazonian Tree Whip."

"Your friend tell you that?"

"I was confident that it was a Tree Whip, but I wanted to be sure it was an Amazonian one and not an Asian one. Both are elapids, but require different antivenins."

"Why do you know so much about snakes? I thought you were a burn specialist?" he said for a second time that day. This time he was genuinely interested in the answer.

She hummed lowly and bit at her thumb nail. "Did a lot of abroad kind of stuff in my younger years. Met a lot of people, learned just enough of a few languages to get myself in trouble, ate a lot of weird food, treated a lot of people that couldn't afford a doctor. Played with _a lot_ of strange and venomous animals."

"Your younger years?" he smirked at her slightly. "You're only around my age, aren't you?"

"McGarrett, your partner's right. You are a Neanderthal, asking my age," she said with a straight face, but the corners of her eyes crinkled. "Forty."

"You're kidding."

"What can I say. I moisturize."

* * *

"So, what'd you do?" Kori asked.

The nurse had once again taken up her seat on one side of the bed, but Kono sat in the seat Steve had previously occupied. She pressed a cool cloth against Danny's forehead and continued her story.

"I hauled butt back to shore, that's what I did," she said.

"Didn't punch it?" Danny asked quietly.

Kono gave him a small grin and brushed her fingers over his hair, putting errant strands back in their place. "Nah brah, didn't need to punch it. I'm Water Woman, remember?"

"Is it a boy thing?" Kori asked. "Because my nephew keeps telling me that he's going to punch a shark one day."

"Steve didn't want to punch the tiger shark, wanted to become man sushi instead," Danny yawned and gagged, pushing himself up on his elbows. He pressed the cloth in his hand to his mouth and took a few steadying breaths in.

Kono rubbed tiny circles on his shoulder with her thumb and glanced at Kori. It killed her to see her teammate and friend like this, and it was only worsened by the fact that she couldn't do anything to help him. All she could do was try and make him comfortable and keep him calm.

"Man sushi, huh?" she said.

Danny nodded and sat back against the pillows slowly. "Neanderthal. Said that he was the bigger predator in the water, why would he need to punch a shark?"

"Only Steve would think that he's the bigger predator," Kono joked in an effort to cover the slip and glanced at the nurse.

Kori held her eyes for a moment. "It's okay. I know. My lips are sealed and bound by many confidentiality agreements and moral codes, so don't worry."

"How…." Danny swallowed and rolled his head to look at Kori. "How long before a snake bite eventually kills you?"

"Danny, you're not going to die," Kono clasped her fingers around his hand, feeling the spasms that made his muscles twitch. "Steve won't let you get out of your partnership that easy."

"I'm going to tell you something right now," Kori rested her cloth across his chest. "Mauna is an absolutely terrifying doctor at times and can be meaner than snot, but she will move heaven and earth to save a patient. Her paired up with Steve? You're going to be fine."

Kono nodded her thanks for the assurance as Danny's eyes closed and he sighed, so unnaturally still and gradually starting to burn from the inside out.

* * *

Steve inhaled until his lungs were full. Salty sea air and pungent fish smell filled his nostrils. It smelled like any other fish market in the warehouse district. The fresh catches that had been hauled in during the wee hours of the morning sat on beds of ice and hung by their tailfins. It was all a perfect disguise to keep people from looking too closely, he thought as him and Mauna wound their way through the fish sellers towards the back of the warehouse.

The big Hawaiian man that was always back there stood up as they approached.

"ID?"

Steve flashed the dark mottled teal scales on his arm, watching the doctor intensely out of the corner of his eye. Mauna raised her arm up and rugged blood red scales leapt to the fore. They quickly disappeared once the guard had nodded and waved them through.

"What are we doing at the dragon market?" Steve questioned as they dumped their cell phones and he left his gun and badge at the lockers with the Hawaiian woman.

Mauna pushed through the curtain and jogged down the steps. "Tree Whips aren't just snakes."

He let that settle in. They weren't just snakes. His brows dropped as it clicked. They weren't just snakes like Black Dragon Eels weren't just leeches or eels.

"They're dragon specific," he said.

"Not as specific as a Fire Wyrm Snake, which is why Danny's not dead yet," Mauna explained as she strode purposefully through the narrow paths between the vendors and stalls. "But enough that the bite from a juvenile would be extremely hard to survive for a human and the bite from an adult would outright drop a human in thirty minutes. We need to grab some Columbian Water Claw extract before we leave, too."

Once again, Steve was thankful that his team was full of dragon blood. It may have complicated things at times, but they'd been able to survive a lot more things that had been thrown their way, like the Black Dragon Eels that would have killed him and Danny had they been humans.

"Danny's probably only hung on as long as he has because he's a stoker," Mauna added, taking a sharp left between two stalls based out of Central America.

He kept on her heels. "He's tough. A lot tougher than people give him credit for."

He nearly ran into her as she stopped in front of a stall with brightly colored blankets and wraparounds with Mesoamerican designs framing the front and blocking the view of vials, jars, and other glass containers at the back.

"Cal, what do you need now? Or did you just come back to see my pretty face?" a man in his early thirties with an accent leaned against the counter at the front of the stall. He stroked the neatly trimmed beard covering his jaw and smiled charmingly at the doctor, latte colored scales glittering on his arms and highlighting his chiseled facial features.

"Shut up, Bruno," Mauna shot down his attempt at flirting like a duck out of the sky during hunting season. "I just talked to Mayara, so don't even play stupid. I need Amazonian Tree Whip antivenin."

Bruno glanced at her and then up at Steve. "Tree Whip antivenin? Here in Hawaii? Are you _louco_? You know those things aren't native, right?"

Mauna stared him down steadily. "You carry the antivenin to almost everything from South America and sell it to exotic pet owners for ridiculous prices. I _know_ you have it."

"Sorry, Cal, I don't have it," Bruno shrugged and held up his hands.

If almost three years of being a cop had taught Steve anything, it was how to spot a liar. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned into Bruno's personal space. "Where is it?"

"You deaf?" Bruno asked. "I just said I don't have it."

"I will give you until the count of five to find it," Steve said. "One."

Bruno laughed and then looked at Mauna, who wasn't laughing.

"You know who this is, right?" she pointed at Steve. "Commander McGarrett of the Five-0 Taskforce."

The color drained from Bruno's tanned face. "He tossed a guy in a shark cage and hung another one off a building, didn't he?"

"Two," Steve glared at him, channeling every ounce of Navy SEAL into a look that his partner often told him could peel paint.

Mauna braced her hands on the wooden counter. "He also survived a Wyvern attack."

"Three."

Bruno wrung one wrist nervously. "So? We're in the market. Five-0 has no jurisdiction here."

"Four."

"You've made two mistakes so far," Mauna held up her fore and middle fingers. "One, it's his partner that needs it."

"And two?" Bruno squeaked as he waited for the last number to drop.

"Five," Steve snarled.

Mauna hopped over the counter. "And two is you've managed to piss us both off."

* * *

Chin tucked the ice that was wrapped up in a towel against Danny's chest under his arm. Hale had decided that the cool cloths were not helping much and went for the ice, even if he didn't prefer that route of cooling down a patient. Kori and the doctor conferred off in the corner of the room while the cousins tended to their friend.

Kono pressed the back of her fingers against his cheek and frowned at Chin. "He's still so hot."

"I knew my good looks would eventually get the better of you," Danny mumbled.

Chin was having a difficult time wrapping his head around the fact that Danny was so miserable and yet was able to keep quipping despite the raging temperature, the drooling, and the jerking muscles. Jersey tough must have been a whole lot tougher than he had always assumed.

"Careful what you say, brah, I'm sitting right here," Chin warned with a warm and playful undertone. "She is my cousin, you know."

"How could I forget?" Danny's face pinched in a grimace as one leg jumped of its own accord. Sweat matted his hair to his head and glistened on his skin, rippling in the light every time a tremor went through a muscle group. "I remember the warning from the first time we met her on the beach."

"Did you really give them a warning, cuz?" Kono questioned.

"For their own safety. They both saw the love tap you gave that guy," Chin smiled softly. "If you did something to them my hands were clean. They had been warned."

"I don't like this," Hale murmured once he and Kori were done speaking and approached the bed again.

"Me and you both, Doc," Danny lolled his head on the pillows and licked his lips, sucking a breath in harshly.

"What am I supposed to write in my notes? That the patient had a temperature of 106.1 degrees Fahrenheit and his doctor gave him nothing for it? And despite that, no damage was done?" Kori's wide eyes swept from Danny back up to Hale.

"We'll have to file him under John Doe and site the Dragons Privacy Act," Hale rubbed his hands together, cracking his knuckles as he did so. He looked at the cousins and nodded subtly. "He'll be protected and no one will be the wiser. But, snake bites still need to be reported, especially since this is a non-native species."

Danny groaned and then gasped, his eyes shooting open. "Doc, can't get enough air."

Hale cursed unintelligibly under his breath. "Kori, get an oxygen mask and I'll get an intubation kit ready just in case."

Chin shared a look with Kono. Danny was going downhill.

* * *

"Are you sure it's only going to take six vials?" Steve threw the truck into park outside of the hospital.

"No," Mauna flung open her door and sprinted for the entrance. "Should only take three, but better safe than sorry."

Steve pounded after her. The call from Chin had sent him into panic mode. Mauna quite bluntly stated that if Danny went into full respiratory arrest, there was a good chance the antivenin would be useless as the venom would have progressed too far. The pair of them even bypassed the elevator in favor of hurtling up the stairs to the second floor.

Gulping through the adrenaline pulsing in his veins and fearing what he would see on the other side of the door, he turned the handle and opened it. Relief flooded him when he saw that Danny was breathing on his own without a ventilator and with only an oxygen mask, but man did he look like death warmed over. Figuratively and literally.

"Zoo?" Hale asked as Mauna ordered Kori to fetch a 500ml bag of saline.

"Couldn't be fortunate enough to get an FDA approved antivenin," Mauna muttered.

Hale combed his hair back roughly. "You do realize you, we, could lose our licenses for using a backwater antivenin, right?"

Mauna's lips pressed into a firm line. "You do realize that I wouldn't use it unless I was sure, right?"

"This is the only way to save him?" Kono asked, blinking away the unbidden tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

"If he doesn't get this within the next half hour, I'll be calling out time of death," Mauna said. It was an insensitive statement, but it got her point across rather coarsely.

Steve only needed to take in the image of his partner overheating for a second more for him to decide. "Do it."

* * *

Steve dropped the bag of takeout on the tray table next to his partner's bed. Ten hours, four vials of antivenin, and two doses of Columbian Water Claw extract later, Danny had quit drooling and his temperature had decreased down to 99.3 degrees, a temperature that the doctors were comfortable with. He was also not twitching and jerking like a dying spider anymore.

"What's this?" Danny gestured with a full wave of his hand to the white plastic bag.

"Kamekona sends his love," Steve smirked, pulling out the two boxes and a set of forks. "Garlic shrimp for you and sweet chili shrimp for me."

"Remind me to thank the big guy when we stop by to get lunch next time," Danny swiveled the tray table over his bed and popped the lid on the box.

"What? Not a big fan of the mystery flavored jello?" Steve asked.

Danny swallowed down his first bite of heavenly shrimp. "Also remind me to forgive Kono for poking fun at her for liking grape or thinking that purple is a flavor. What being in their right mind would create such a neon green gelatinous blob with such a weird, unidentifiable flavor that it might as well have been grass flavored?"

"I don't know, bud," Steve grinned as he ate.

It was good to hear his partner's voice back at full strength and to see him much more animated. The whole slowly dying thing was something that he didn't want to repeat. He had the Columbian Water Claw extract that Mauna had given him to thank for the speedy recovery. From what he could understand, it had potent healing properties that worked alongside a dragon's naturally quick healing systems and it may have had a bit of caffeine in it, too.

"Hey, boys."

They turned and looked at Kori peering in the doorway.

"You look much better," she stepped inside. "And I see you got some food smuggled in."

"What can I say, even the turkey and cheese can't compare to this," Danny gestured to the shrimp on his fork.

"I'm wounded," Kori put her hands over her heart. "I was just checking up on you. I'm sure Mauna and Hale will be back around to do a more thorough check later. And Steve, visiting hours are almost over. You're going to have to go home."

Had his partner still been roasting and drooling and twitching and gasping, Steve would have argued. However, with Danny looking like himself and acting like himself, he felt that he could grab a hot shower and sleep without too much trouble.

"Don't worry, I won't keep the child up past his bedtime," Steve said.

"Child? Excuse me, Steven, but I have never seen someone act like a five year old more than you do."

Kori smiled brightly as she shut the door.

* * *

The sun was already casting its gloriously warm golden rays on the city when Steve stepped out of his truck at the hospital the next morning. He had a bag with a fresh pair of clothes for his partner, as per the insistence that he was refusing to leave in a gown and that he was going to promptly burn his clothes from the previous day. The fact that the snake had been hidden in his pant leg cuff had been enough for him to write the slacks off as no longer wearable.

Steve hadn't eaten yet. He wondered if Danny would like to stop by one of the pancake houses before heading to his place. Standard procedure was for him to stay in the hospital for forty-eight hours for observation, but Hale had reluctantly agreed that he could leave after twenty-four hours so long as he was under someone's watch for the rest of the day and night.

He didn't see Kori upstairs and thought that it was probably because her shift had ended at some time during the night or early morning. He did briefly glimpse Hale in the ER, but didn't spot Mauna anywhere.

"Okay, I grabbed you a pair of sweats and a tee," Steve said as he opened the door to his partner's room. "And I didn't know you had slippers, bud–"

Steve froze. The sheets on the bed were folded over and Danny was gone.

 **To to be continued...**

* * *

 **Ooooo...gotcha. ;)**

 **Next week on "Dragons", we find out where Danny's gone to and see the dark nature of those that don't see dragons as people.**

 **Remember, I'm only going to be posting once a week on Tuesdays starting next week! Thanks so much for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	37. Fact 36

**You've all been wondering where Danny went. I got one guess that he had absconded with Mauna somewhere, others guessed that he'd been taken. Now we see. ;)**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #36: Some view dragons as nothing more than animals.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 3**

He hadn't even opened his eyes yet and his brain was already sloshing around in his head like he was in a washing machine. The ground buckled and swayed under him and his heart beat unsteadily in his chest at the rolling sensation. Not wanting to induce more nausea than what he was already feeling, he kept his eyes shuttered while he took stock of his body.

Something was off. It was off in the way that it was hard to put a finger on. He had been feeling better after the antivenin, but now he wasn't so sure. He couldn't definitively point to why, he just wasn't. He wasn't slowly roasting like he had been. He didn't feel like he was going to burst into flames again. He could breathe.

Instead, his veins felt like they had molasses slugging through them and his head felt like it was buried under a mountain of blankets while being strapped into a Tilt-A-Whirl. He was definitely on a different carnival ride this time.

Limbs were heavy, not tingly. Mouth was cottony, not slobbery. It was like he was listening to the world through a tin can. Odd and full of echoes. Through the poor audio quality he could hear soft voices. Maybe it was the nurses. Had something happened to him during the night? It was possible he had crashed from the venom or had a reaction to the antivenin, he remembered Mauna mentioning that they would have to watch for that. His life was Murphy's Law, go figure.

The voices became clearer the closer they came.

"…get it in?"

"Yeah, but we're going to have to wait for Krimshaw to get back to get the catheter in."

"He show any signs of waking?"

He was awake. He was awake and he wanted to know what was going on, who Krimshaw was, where Hale or Mauna or Kori was, and he demanded an excellent reason as to why he now needed a catheter. No way, no how was that one happening.

"No. The drugs should keep him under for the rest of the day."

Drugs? What drugs? All four rounds of antivenin hadn't knocked him out and the Columbian Water Claw extract was an upper according to Mauna, so what drugs should keep him under?

He tried to open his eyes, but it was too much effort. He was tired. So tired. Even more tired than before. Like he had run up the Diamond Head stairs and then back down without a break. A speck of unfazed intelligence in his mind held itself aloft from the sleep overtaking him. The speck was seldom wrong. Listen to the speck. Listen to it. Stay awake.

Danny barely had any time to even figure out what the speck was saying before the drug induced sleep clasped its hand over him.

* * *

The next time he came up for air from the dreamless slumber, he was more aware. How much time had passed he didn't know. The soft voices were no longer chatting near him and he wasn't on the Tilt-A-Whirl anymore.

Pins and needles traveled up and down his legs. The tingling had returned. Maybe the venom had gotten its second wind. The feeling of molasses in his veins was replaced by what felt like pop rocks. Fortunately, none of his muscles were twitching and the heat still hadn't returned. Unfortunately, or maybe not, depending on how he looked at it, his mouth was dry and he wasn't drowning in spit.

His limbs were leaden despite the tingling. There was a bit of a signal lag between his brain and body. Not good.

He forced his eyes to open into slits. That didn't help, either. It was dark. Not pitch black, but too dark for his unadjusted eyes to make out what was going on.

His other senses, though, were sharpening despite the persistent tug of a drugged sleep.

He groaned. He was on his side. Man, how long had he been in that position? He must have been lying on his left side for some time now if the cramps and the numbness in that arm were anything to go by. As he tried to move there was a metallic scrape and his leg jerked to a halt. Dragging his head upwards and twisting, he squinted in the dark to make out the jumbled shapes.

What? Someone had cuffed his ankle? Why was he cuffed?

That exhausted feeling was creeping back up on him, forcing his head to return to the floor. No, he couldn't go to sleep again. That speck that was holding itself aloft was screaming at him. His cop instincts were screaming at him that he was missing a great big stinking clue. Don't ignore the instinct. Listen to it.

There were the soft voices again.

Stay awake. Figure out what was going on.

"Crossbreed, crossbreed, pure blood, crossbreed, and he's a pure blood?"

"Pure blooded Cliff by the looks of it."

"Really? Fantastic. I wasn't expecting that. I want to take a peek."

The creaking of large metal hinges made his ears ring. Bright light struck him in the eyes and he squeezed them closed. The footsteps came closer. Someone kneeled next to his head. The ground. Why was he on the ground? Why wasn't he in the hospital bed?

A hand touched his face.

He cracked his eyes open, just barely. Just enough to see a blurry outline of a woman looking at him.

"And the drugs?" she craned her head around to the person standing outside of the doors.

"Working as far as we can tell. Sometimes they open their eyes while they're asleep if they sense someone close by."

They. They. Who were 'they'? Who were these guys? Why was he on the ground? What was going on?

"He is going to give us some nice ones," the woman patted his cheek and stood up.

He wanted to call out and question what was going on as the door swung shut, but the speck of cop instinct told him to hold his tongue. That great big stinking clue he had initially missed? They had been talking about crossbreeds and pure bloods. They had mentioned a pure blooded Cliff before opening the doors.

Sleep was already dragging him down again as he put the pieces together. They. That was the great big stinking clue. The 'they' were dragons.

* * *

Steve was ready to burn the city to the ground to find Danny. He had made the heart wrenching call to put Grace and Rachel under protective custody, just in case this turned out like the Peterson incident. The not knowing was what was killing him, not knowing what to tell Rachel and not knowing what to tell Grace when she begged him to tell her Danno was okay.

Chin and Kono wisely kept their distance and examined the security footage while their boss wore a rut in the floor. They weren't sure how long their friend had been missing. At the very least it had been three hours. At the most it had been thirteen hours. The latter was more frightening.

Wound tighter than a tense dog ready to attack, Steve whipped his head towards the doors when they opened.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Steve barked at the doctor.

"Don't you dare snarl at me, McGarrett," Mauna snapped.

"My partner disappeared under your watch!"

"I. Wasn't. On. Duty," she said very slowly and deliberately. "I got off my shift yesterday morning, so I technically wasn't on duty while I was saving Danny's life yesterday. You're welcome for that, by the way. I left the hospital at midnight last night after checking in on him one more time and giving him a third dose of the Columbian Water Claw extract."

"Where was Hale? Where was Kori?" Steve questioned.

"Steve," Chin said. His tone was calm, but brooked no room for an argument.

Steve's jaw worked like he was going to continue, but instead he sighed unhappily and crossed his arms over his chest.

"We called her here to help," Kono glanced between him and the doctor before gesturing for her to come over to the smart table. "We've been checking out the staff that was on duty at the time, but they've all checked out as clean. We wanted to see if you can see anyone out of place."

"There're a lot of nurses and janitors and doctors at King's," Mauna muttered. "I don't know all of them."

"But you spend most of your time on the one floor, right?" Kono asked.

"I'm a specialist. I move around a lot. I pick up ER shifts. Add that to the fact that one of the floors got scattered while they were remodeling after the Wyvern attack, and that means a lot of people are still in between floors and like I said, I don't know everyone."

"Well, just look over these and maybe something will pop out at you."

As Kono and Mauna started going through the footage from the hallway Danny had been down and the footage from the nurses' station on that floor as well as the stairwell, Chin peeled away from the smart table. He set his hand firmly on Steve's shoulder.

"Don't worry, brah. We'll find him."

"We better."

Neither of them spoke about what might happen if they didn't.

* * *

This time he was awake. The tingling was gone except for his left arm that he had been putting pressure on for too long. The dull and cottony senses had returned to normal levels. His brain was able to take in all the information each sense was sending to it. Unfortunately, the processing part was taking longer than he wanted it to. Some signals were coming in and his brain was sluggishly trying to make sense of them.

He did know one thing for certain. He was fully shifted. That much he had understood almost immediately upon waking up this third time. His scales scraped the metal flooring where the blanket he was on had been moved aside and his claws scratched across it, producing a nails-on-chalkboard sound.

He unfurled one wing, freezing when it clanked against a metal ceiling.

Dark, confined space. He was stuck in a dark, confined space.

Danny's breath quickened as he tried to get to his feet. The thick metal cuff on his ankle jangled and he had to lean on the wall for support due to his left arm, front leg rather, still being asleep.

No, no, no, why did it have to be such a small space? Granted, if he had been in human form it wouldn't have been so bad, but as it was his one wing was pressed against the wall and ceiling and he couldn't move. And there were people that he didn't know somewhere close by and his instincts were identifying them as bad guys that knew he was a Cliff and had locked him up and shackled him and drugged him.

His open wing thumped against the sides of his prison again as his chest tightened and his thoughts went into a downward spiral. It was dark and tight and unfamiliar and he still felt off and slightly sick to his stomach and weak and where was his partner or a nurse or doctor and why was he here and where was here and what did they want with him and how was he going to get out of here –

"Easy there, sweetheart, easy."

He stopped dead, willing the nervous shivers going down his back to cease. Was that the woman that had been here before? Something about her had set him on edge. Well, more on edge than he currently was. She was not to be trusted. Not that he would trust anyone wherever he was at the moment. Trust for kidnappers wasn't something that welled up inside him naturally.

"They must have screwed up your drug dosage for you to be awake."

The voice wasn't coming from beyond the doors. It was a soft voice drifting down to him from a vent at the back of his prison. Now that his eyes had adjusted and he was looking, there were several slits high up on the walls that were covered with metal grating. What were they for? Airflow?

Airflow meant long term containment. Great.

"You're the new one they picked up, right?"

Kidnapped, snatched away from his hospital bed, yes, but picked up made it sound like he was some stray dog they'd plucked off the street and he was one hundred percent sure that he had been smuggled out of the hospital.

He was going to say as much. It didn't matter if this was the bad woman or someone else, he was ready to begin a full and total rant to whomever he could.

That was, if he could open his mouth.

He crossed his eyes. What the hell was that? Was that a metal band looped around his jaws? He couldn't do much more than barely crack his mouth open. What kind of cruel and unusual treatment was this? What kind of hell had he been dragged into?

His breaths came shallowly and rapidly as he clawed at the band. He had to get it off. Get it off right now.

"Oh, you poor dumb thing, they muzzled you, didn't they?"

Kidnapped him, somehow forced a full shift on him, drugged him, chained him, and muzzled him all after he had barely recovered from almost dying from a snake bite. Oh god, his life really was Murphy's Law. His vision blurred and his ribs constricted around his lungs as anxiety fastened its deadly fingers around him.

"Honey, stop. You're going to hurt yourself. You need a key to get it off."

Or big, meaty claws. This had to work. He scrabbled at the band, ignoring the stinging as he nicked himself and as the metal chafed his snout. Being reduced to a mute was not on his nightmare list. Waking up a foot shorter, losing Grace, Steve getting himself killed, those were on his nightmare list. For a reason unknown to him, he had never considered not being able to talk to be as panic inducing as it was.

"Hey, sweetheart! You need to calm down or they're going to come check on you."

Danny paused with one claw lodged partially under the band.

If the 'they' this woman was talking about were the bad guys he had identified earlier, then he didn't want them to come back until he had a better plan of escape. If they thought he was awake when he shouldn't be, they may drug him again and he doubted they would get the dosage wrong a second time. He'd be royally screwed.

He needed to calm down. Calm down. Easier said than done, he snorted bitterly. Think of something that calmed him. Calm, calm, calm. Calm.

Grace.

Grace with her smiling face and her silky pigtails.

Grace with her big brown eyes that could make even a Navy SEAL cave and her voice that made him melt like a scoop of ice cream that had been dropped on the sidewalk.

The way she hugged him with her arms wrapped around his chest.

The way she laughed when Chin told a funny story.

The way she grinned as she learned to surf with Kono.

How she called him Danno.

How much she loved him.

How much she so purely and honestly loved him.

He slumped against the cool metal wall and let his unfurled wing drape across his side. With the picture of his beautiful daughter still in his mind, he inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. Grace was his breath and his life. She was his lifeline.

"I'm sorry they did that to you, sweetheart."

Danny nodded to himself in the dark.

That voice sounded nothing like the other woman that had been there earlier. Her voice had been older and gravelly. This voice was younger and sweeter. Now that his claustrophobia didn't have such a strangling hold on his mind, merely a slightly choking one, that speck of cop instinct could grow and take control of the situation.

First order of business, freaking out would get him nowhere fast. He would grab a hold of his lifeline of Grace and hold on for as long as it took for him to get out of this.

"I'm sorry. You'll be…okay. We'll be okay."

Danny blinked as her soft words filtered through the grating. She reminded him of Rachel with her British accent, but her voice was more lilting than his ex-wife's. Either that or he had come to expect double edged words whenever he was speaking with Rachel, so he had a hard time picking out the charm in her voice anymore.

Was she was trapped in a container close to him? Or she could have been a plant to watch him. Or maybe she was in the same situation he was, minus the muzzle.

He thumped his foot down in irritation. This was one time where he really needed to ask questions that he really needed answers to, and of course there was some instrument from the Dark Ages strapped around his mouth.

"It's okay, I know it's frustrating. How about two taps for yes, one for no?"

Not ideal for someone who thrived on words, but it was better than nothing. If his partner was here he would be beating out a signal in morose code and what good would that do him if no one understood it? Would the man even notice if his mouth was banded shut? He didn't tend to share a lot in these types of situations and often poked at Danny for voicing his concerns and worries.

"Sweetheart?"

He double tapped the wall.

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you. I haven't had a neighbor in a while."

Christ, how long had she been here? Longer than him and she sounded as if she had had neighbors before. What was this place? Somewhere that obviously had people, dragons and maybe humans too, passing through and getting stuffed into containers often enough that the harder he thought about it the more could feel the spindly fingers of anxiety weaving their way through his ribs.

"It's okay, I'll leave you alone."

No!

No, alone in a dark and confined space was worse than having a disembodied voice talking to him with kind tones and sweet words. Forget if she was a plant. He needed to hear another living being's voice.

He tapped against the wall once.

"Okay, sweetheart, I'll keep talking. You're the Cliff I heard them talking about, right?"

Awesome first question that didn't help the niggling thought that she was a plant to spy on him. His type wasn't something that he was willing to give up. It took him two and a half years to finally let his partner know that was his type, and that had been through yet another drugging and a fit of rage. Five or ten minutes did not warrant that kind of trust, no matter how sweet and kind the person was.

"You don't have to answer that. How about a name? You have name?"

Warily, he tapped twice. Yes, he had a name. No, he didn't know how to tell her because he did not know morose code. Maybe there could be some use to learn at least some morose code, after all.

"A?"

Or they could do that. He tapped once.

"B?"

One tap.

"C?"

One tap.

"D?"

Two taps. Good thing his name didn't start with a Z.

"Starts with a D. Next letter. A?"

Two taps.

"That was fast. Okay, a D and an A. Maybe Dan?"

Sort of. He tapped twice.

"Dan?"

One tap.

"Dan, but not Dan. Daniel?"

One tap.

"Danny?"

Two taps.

"Danny. Nice to meet you, Danny. I'm Tamarin."

* * *

Steve saw Mauna's brows furrow before she could move any other muscle or open her mouth. He switched from watching her to watching the screen. She had seen something.

"That guy," she pointed at someone as they walked off screen. "Go back."

Kono reversed the footage twenty seconds back. Mauna narrowed her eyes and approached the hanging screen. Her finger jabbed at a man once he was in the shot again. Kono froze the video right there.

"You know him?" Steve questioned.

"No. And that's what I don't like," she pushed her shoulders back and set her hands on her hips.

Chin selected the man's face and sorted it against the hospital employee records. King's was a large facility and had numerous employees, from nurses and doctors to receptionists to janitors to cafeteria workers to security guards and much more. Taking a chance, he used the fact that the man was garbed in teal scrubs to narrow it down to nurses. That guess lopped a significant amount of time off matching a name to the face.

"Samuel Hopkins, part time ER nurse. Checked out as clean with no record or complaints," Chin relayed.

Kono's face lit up and she looked at the boys. "Wasn't he the other nurse with Kori when we first went up there?"

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "He was drawing blood."

"Well, that would explain why he's up there," Chin said.

Mauna's eyes narrowed. "Look at the time stamp. That was after I had told Hale and Kori that they were to be the only ones tending to Danny since they were in on the loop that he was a fire breather. No one else was to go in his room."

"So, what was he doing leaving Danny's room?" Chin questioned.

"I say we go and ask him ourselves," Steve said.

"He's not working today, but I've got his home address."

"Chin, with me. Kono, stay here with Mauna and keep searching through the footage. I want to know what Hopkins does for the rest of his shift. Every step he takes, every person he talks to."

"On it, Boss."

* * *

"Are we somewhere warm?"

The question caught him off guard. He had been focused on a new problem that had come to his attention after he had played the name game with Tamarin.

The detective in him, however, latched onto her question and let his new problem slip from his mind temporarily. Were they somewhere warm? That made it sound like she had been moved around from place to place. Obviously, she had been here longer than him, and she apparently hadn't started out on Oahu.

A frigid chunk of ice settled in his stomach. He wondered how quickly these people could pull up stakes and leave somewhere.

He tapped twice.

"Really?" he heard her shuffle in the container next to his. "I thought it felt a bit warmer, but then again thought maybe I was imagining it. Are we in the United States?"

Two taps, though he didn't really consider Hawaii _in_ the US so much as a _part_ of the US.

"California?"

One tap.

"Not California? I suppose Oregon and Washington aren't really warm, are they?"

One tap.

"Didn't think so. Are we in the South again? Like Florida or Louisiana or Texas or something?"

He tapped once. These people did pull up stakes and move around a lot. She had been in the southern US before, which was thousands of miles from their current position. Or, hopefully still current position. Crap, he may not even be on Oahu anymore. How was his team supposed to find him?

"We're not in Hawaii, are we?"

He tapped twice. Please, please let them still be in Hawaii.

"We are? I've always wanted to go to an island. I know I'm from the Isle of Britain, but that doesn't really count. Are we at the big one?"

One tap. She was talking in present tense. Maybe she knew when these people were moving. There was a chance they were still on the island.

"One of the little ones, then. Must be Oahu, right?"

Two taps.

"I had a friend that went to Oahu when he got married…."

Danny half-heartedly listened to her talk longingly about her friend and the honeymoon said friend took. His gaze returned to the new problem that he had noticed in front of him. He frowned, sort of. The metal band was screwing up his facial expressions.

Swallowing against a dry throat, he tried to focus his eyes and trace the thin tube to where it disappeared through a hole in the metal door. This was the new problem that had been brought to his attention. One end of the tube went out of the door and was more than likely hooked up to some bag with an unknown solution in it while the other end was snaked through one nostril and down his throat. He was hyper aware of it every time he swallowed now.

He would pull it out, but what if he did and it triggered an alarm? Even if it didn't, when the bad guys returned they would notice it was out and know something was up. If he was shot up with more drugs he was done.

Tamarin probably knew what this nose tube was for. She seemed to have a broader grasp of what was going on. If only he could open his mouth.

He huffed out a growl.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Am I driving you nuts?"

No, nothing was wrong at all. He was only rendered mute in a time when he needed to talk and had who knew what being pumped into him, but other than that he was just peachy. He needed to know what this tube was for. Easy way to administer drugs? Feeding tube? For all he knew, it could have been slowly dripping poison into him.

He thumped against the wall once. Charades would be an option if they weren't in separate containers. Steve always said he could carry a conversation with his hands, no words required. That only helped if the other person could see his hands.

"Is it the muzzle?"

Two thumps. Who knew? He may have been able to solve the case of his own kidnapping if he could talk, but so long as this metal band was ratcheted around his mouth he was doing a lousy job of getting very far or finding out very much.

"I know. I had one on me for a while," little cracks broke up the smooth flow of her voice. "They finally left it off of me once I stopped screaming."

Danny exhaled sharply. A cold wave washed over him. He had seen a lot of sick and twisted things in all of his years as a cop. Met a lot of victims. Tamarin's façade was cracking with harsh memories and with the horrors she must have endured in whatever this place was. Right now, he wished he could just see her face to face and assure her that his partner was coming.

His team would save them.

* * *

Samuel Hopkins was, for all intents and purposes, a chicken that had been cornered by a fox. Or a bear. Chin wasn't sure which animal his boss was exuding at the moment. The way Steve was pacing, though, made him think distinctly of a big cat. A jaguar or a tiger. Shoulders racked up with tension, slinking back and forth in the backyard, snarling.

"For your sake, you better start talking," Chin told the frazzled ER nurse that was cuffed to the chain link fence.

"I know my rights," Samuel said lowly. He glared at the pair of them.

"No," Steve crouched down by him. "You don't have any rights. You lost those as soon as we found footage of you entering a patient's room you weren't supposed to. Where. Is. He?"

Samuel shrunk back slightly against the fence, but maintained his glare. "I don't know what you're talking about. I work at a hospital. I'm a nurse. I go into patients' rooms."

Steve grabbed the fence above Samuel's cuffed hands and shook it violently. "Where the hell is he?"

"Don't test him, brah, he's got a shorter fuse than usual today," Chin said, having to play the level-headed man. He wanted to get their friend back as much as Steve did, but someone had to keep the boss from hauling off and killing their suspect.

"You're cops!" Samuel spat. "You can't do anything to me, and even if you do, you'll get yourselves suspended and any imaginary evidence you might have will get tossed out the window."

"Tossed out the window," Steve repeated with a cold and soulless smirk spreading across his face.

"Steve, tossing him out a window will make him dead, and we don't want him dead," Chin said coolly. He used the barrel of his shotgun to gesture at Samuel, enjoying the flinch he received in response. "You see, we're not regular cops, Samuel. We're Five-0. You know what that means?"

Samuel kept his mouth shut and his dark eyes darted between them.

"It means we have full immunity and means," Chin grinned maliciously. "It means we have permission from the Governor to do whatever is necessary to get the job done."

"So where is Danny?" Steve growled.

Apparently, Samuel decided that they were bluffing. He didn't say a word.

Chin dusted off his hands. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

He turned back to the house as his phone rang. Leaving Samuel in the capable hands of Steve, he swiped his thumb across the screen as he stepped back up into the kitchen through the back door. It was time to let the Navy SEAL do his thing while he put his detective skills to good use.

"What do you have, Kono?" he asked as he started to poke and prod through Samuel's belongings.

" _We caught Samuel talking to another nurse in the back of the hospital where the dumpsters are. It looks like he used her as a distraction to smuggle Danny out and then she drove off with Danny in a black van."_

"Did you get a license plate?" he stepped down on the foot lever of the kitchen trashcan, peering into the half-full bag as the lid flipped up. He frowned and pulled out a glove.

" _Yeah, didn't take long to figure out where it was. HPD said that it had been stolen from a rental place yesterday morning and had its GPS locator ripped out. They found it dumped in a tow away zone near Ala Moana Park early this morning."_

Chin held the small glass vial to the light and squinted. It was nearly empty except for a tiny drop swirling around in the bottom. There were no labels or discernable tags on it to detail what had been contained in it. He dug an evidence bag out and dropped it in. The crime lab would have to determine what it was.

" _Mauna, what are you – no, hold on, don't – damn it, I have to let you go, Chin."_

"What's wrong?"

" _Mauna figured out who the other nurse was before I did. She called Hale and is heading to the hospital."_

"Don't let her do anything stupid."

" _I'm on it, cuz, but man she's got a long stride. Mauna! Mauna!"_

The call ended. Chin shook his head and stared at his phone a moment before putting it back in his pocket. Figuring it was time to collect Steve and their suspect, he made his way into the backyard again.

"Steve."

Chin didn't want to even know what he had done to Samuel, but whatever it was had turned the ER nurse into a cowering and whimpering fool. He flicked two fingers out at Steve and swept them towards the truck parked at the front of the house.

Steve released Samuel from the fence and roughly cuffed him again, fisting the back of his shirt in his hand and marching him forward. Samuel shuffled along with his tail, not between his legs, but cut off.

"He tell you anything?" Chin asked.

Steve's face remained grim. "Said he doesn't know where he is. That's not part of his job."

Chin hummed lowly. "Alright, come on, Jack Bauer, I have evidence to get to Charlie and Kono's got a lead."

Steve looked at him oddly at the reference.

Chin shrugged one shoulder. "Danny would want me to keep up the tradition."

* * *

Mauna was gone by the time Kono got out to the Palace parking lot. Cursing, she jumped in her little red Cruze and blasted out into the mid-morning traffic, flicking on the sirens to send cars scrambling out of her way. Steve would have been proud of her evasive maneuvers and Danny would've ranted that she had been hanging out with their boss too much.

A grim look settled on her face. "Don't worry, Danny, we'll find you."

Maybe, just maybe, with the use of her sirens she had managed to pass Mauna somewhere on the streets and beat her to the hospital. The look on the older woman's face when realization had hit her sprang to Kono's mind as she sprinted from her car up to the entrance of the hospital. Kori had been right, she could be terrifying.

She made a right at the reception desk and headed back towards the ER.

"Excuse me, Miss, can I help you?" one of the nurses at the nurses' station stood up as she sped by.

"Have you seen Doctor Hale or Mauna recently?" she asked, pausing to take a breath.

The nurse nodded and pointed. "Mauna just met up with Hale maybe five minutes ago and they both took off for the breakroom."

"Okay, thanks," Kono followed where the nurse was pointing. Mauna must've known some kind of back alley shortcut to beat her by five minutes.

She turned down the hallway the nurse had indicated. It was lined by various doors, all leading to consultation, storage, and bathrooms. She came to one door that was shut and had a small tag on it that read 'Breakroom'. She tried the handle. Locked, but she could hear voices on the other side.

"Five-0! Open up."

The handle swiveled and Hale peeked out. His salt and pepper hair was disheveled like he had dug his fingers through it repeatedly and he sighed upon recognizing her. He held the door open.

"Mauna? What the hell?" Kono's eyes widened.

Mauna sat on the edge of one of the tables with her arms crossed over her chest, her warm amber eyes fiery and narrowed at a woman secured to a chair with duct tape. An entire roll of duct tape. Only one strip was spared and that strip was slapped over her mouth.

"I knew I recognized her," Mauna said. "She was peeping in on Danny when I was digging through his clothes looking for the snake. She took off once she realized McGarrett and I were in there, didn't you, Caroline?"

The youngish pale faced, frizzy black haired nurse snorted and shot daggers at Mauna with her lightly colored eyes.

"You can't just go and tape people to a chair," Kono said. Was this how Danny felt with Steve? Wondering exactly what insane and not by the book thing he was going to do next?

"Tell her where she was when I called you, Hale," Mauna tilted her head at the other doctor.

Hale's thumb darted into his palm and rubbed in tiny circles. "Mauna called and asked me to find her and to not let her leave, which I can tell you is not what I am trained for. I don't know how I always wind up involved with this kind of stuff."

"Looks like you didn't let her leave, though," Kono ran her fingers through the underside of her hair, pulling it up off her neck.

"She was trying to get into the security room," Hale continued.

"Hale kept her talking with questions about another patient long enough for me to get here," Mauna finished.

Kono wasn't sure she wanted to know what had transpired after that, but assumed it went something along the lines of Mauna kidnapping the nurse and then shoving her into the breakroom. This must have been exactly how Danny felt with Steve. Maybe all his ranting wasn't just him blowing off steam.

"Caroline, you're coming with me. My boss will want to ask you some questions," Kono said, sighing and reaching into her back pocket for her knife. "Once we separate you from the chair."

* * *

Pacing panther. That's what Chin had settled on to describe Steve. Here in the darkened, blue lit interrogation room, the reserve Navy SEAL perfectly emulated an apex predator. Which he was, whether all anyone saw was the human side or the dragon side. It didn't matter, the man was scary when he was in a mood like this.

"What were you doing trying to get into the security room?" Chin asked, keeping his tone level yet as hard as a slab of marble.

"I want my lawyer," Caroline reiterated for the fourth time.

"You don't get it, do you?" Steve stalked closer to the cuffed woman. "We have you on video talking to Samuel Hopkins, who we've already connected to this case. We have you driving away in a stolen van that was found this morning."

Chin's brows shifted up slightly. "You were going to try and wipe the security footage from last night and this morning, weren't you?"

"You have nothing on me," she said.

"You caught wind that we were investigating, didn't you?" Steve exhaled slowly and Chin noted that he saw a puff of vapor escape his nose. He was definitely stressed if he was boiling during work hours. As fast as the small puff had appeared it dissipated and Steve was growling, "Didn't know Danny was one of ours."

"You have nothing–"

"We have the footage! We have a witness! And you are going to stay in this room and cuffed to that chair until you tell us what is going on," Chin allowed his frustration to increase the volume of his voice. "What happened? Why did you take him?"

"Is this revenge against Five-0?" Steve gestured to himself and then to Chin. "Are you planning on making a ransom demand, or are you planning on killing him to send a message?"

Caroline remained silent, but her bottom lip was quivering and sweat poured down her face and arms. Her visage starting to crumble. They were getting to her. A few more blows and she might finally crack.

"I find it strange that two ER nurses would abduct a detective," Chin dropped his voice back to its level tone. "Now, why would you do that?"

"Are you working for someone? Did they pay you to kidnap Danny?" Steve uncrossed his arms and set them on his hips, fingertips tapping against the holstered gun clipped there.

Caroline lowered her head and hid her eyes from them.

"We're going to find out, sooner or later," Chin said. "We have police sweeping your apartment and one of our officers is going through your bank records. It's in your best interest that we find out sooner rather than later."

When she still held onto her silence by a thread, Steve invaded her personal space with a knife to sever that last effort to keep quiet. "If we don't find him, the last medical facility that you'll ever go will be the morgue."

"Okay!" Caroline shouted. Her chest heaved as she drew in shaking breaths and picked her head up to look at them. Licking her lips, she said, "Okay, I'll talk."

"Where is Danny? Where did you take him?" Steve questioned.

"I don't know," Caroline said.

"You don't know?" Steve moved in again.

"Wait! Wait!" Caroline flinched and tried to lean as far away from Steve as she could. "I know where he is, I just don't know _where_ he is."

Chin exchanged a perplexed look with Steve before he looked at the woman with fully raised brows. "You know where, but you don't know where?"

Caroline nodded, beads of sweat dripping off her nose and running down her neck with the movement.

"Well, where is he?" Steve bellowed.

Caroline's wide and frightened eyes locked onto them as she answered.

* * *

Wait.

What was that?

Danny pressed his front feet against the floor of his small prison and laid his head on it.

Tamarin had grown quiet after revealing she had been muzzled, too. Through soft taps he had managed to coax her into talking again, glad when her voice returned to its silky smooth and sweet timbre after a few more conversations. If they could be called that. After the name and the guessing where they were game, she only asked simple yes or no questions.

"Were you born in Hawaii?" her gentle voice drifted down from the slots high in the walls.

One tap.

Really, what was that sound? It had been there the entire time he had been awake, but it was only now that he was actually taking notice of it. The cop in him was working fiercely to figure a way out and had taken great interest in this low hum. With his head against the floor he could sense motion, too. Weird. Well, weirder than what was already going on.

"I was born just outside of London, myself. Came to the States to travel with some friends before we all went our separate ways, you know. My cousin Louie was going to go to university in California, wanted to be a marine biologist."

Danny lifted his head with a puzzled frown.

California, Oregon, Washington, Texas, Louisiana, Florida, Hawaii, they were all coastal states. Arizona was warm, yet she hadn't mentioned it earlier. She had mentioned states that were on the coast. Why would she –

His eyes widened and his heart worked its way into his throat.

The low hum was an engine. The slight motion he could feel were waves.

They were on a ship.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Gotcha again! *ducks a brick***

 **Next Tuesday on "Dragons", Danny plots his escape while his team plots his rescue, and the truth about the kidnappers is revealed.**

 **Sorry, no artwork this week. Next week, though, there should be some. All my family has gone home and I've gotten back to my regular writing/drawing schedule.**


	38. Fact 36 Part II

**You've all waited so patiently. This is a hefty chapter.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #36: Some view dragons as nothing more than animals.**

 **Season: Midway through Season 3**

 **Part II**

The salty spray coming off the waves speckled her weathered face while she supervised the goings on at the stern of the ship. Sunlight rained down, glittering and shimmering on the wet deck, catching fish scales in its beams and causing them to sparkle brightly as they were pressure washed overboard. Her eyes crinkled up at the churning water in the wake of their unfortunately slow pace through the ocean. One could not go at full speed when awaiting arrivals.

One of the men sloshed one last bucket into the water, sending the sharks into a frenzy again. "That's the last of it, Ma'am. The White Tips certainly enjoyed it."

She nodded slowly. "It's a pity that we couldn't save more of him."

"You know what they say," the man said as he shrugged out of his rubber coveralls and left them for the other man to hose off. "Can't use the meat after it's been dead for more than two hours. At least we got the hide, scales, and bones."

She reached behind her head and tightened her ponytail, smoothing her graying hair as she did. "I would have preferred we had known sooner that he was dead, at least we could have harvested the heart and liver if not the meat."

The man was a skinny bloke with a farmer's tan and with long black hair tied back. He motioned for them to get out of the sun into the expensively decorated cabin. They made their way up a set of stairs and through a door into the air-conditioned stern most cabin, that of which happened to have a better view than the bow most cabin. He scrubbed his hands clean in the sink and grabbed a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator from where it was tucked in with various bottles of champagne.

"Can I get you anything, Ma'am?"

"No," she shook her head and sat on one of the fancy couches that had a grand view of a bank of windows that overlooked the wrinkled cerulean blanket that was the Pacific Ocean.

"When is Krimshaw due back from the other ship?" the man leaned against the cedar wood countertop in the kitchenette. He drained half the contents of the bottle in one swig.

"This evening. There was an overdosing incident on the _Ostara's Charm_ that required his attention," she said. "In the meantime, we have a couple coming out in an hour to look at our stock and see if any of them catches their eye."

"And the Farthings?" the man asked.

The woman grinned slightly. "Thankfully, they're not coming until tomorrow evening."

"Good," he finished the bottle off and tossed it into the trashcan hooked to the cabinet door under the sink. "Wouldn't want to have a clash of the rich snobs."

"Jeffrey, bridle your tongue," the woman tsked, but her mouth quirked upwards at the corners.

"Well, I can tell you one thing," Jeffrey crossed his arms and raised a brow with a grin. "I know for a fact one of the ones they're going to pick."

"Is that so?" she steepled her fingers and motioned for him to continue.

His head bobbed in the affirmative. "They're going to pick that Cliff. Him and probably that black scaled Wyvern or that Arboreal crossbreed we've got down there."

The woman silently admitted that he was probably right. Her new Cliff was going to be very popular.

* * *

Danny tapped his claws against the metal floor in an offbeat rhythm. They were on a ship. Or a boat. He just knew it certainly wasn't a dinghy. It must have either been a large vessel or they were going slowly, because the motion of rolling over the waves was almost imperceptible. Let it be the latter option, please, at least his team would have an easier time locating him if they hadn't gotten far out to sea.

"Sweetheart?"

He glanced upwards, mindful of the tug from the nasal tube in his left nostril. Tamarin's talking had dropped off for a while after he had quit answering her while he let the stunned realization of being on a ship sink in. Sighing deeply, he brought his claws up to his face and felt the metal band around his snout again. He needed to be able to speak.

"If you're tired, I'll let you sleep."

He tapped once. The persistent beckoning of the drugged sleep had worn off who knew how long ago and it was only plain old exhaustion beckoning him to rest now. Even if he had been unable to battle the drugged sleep, he was well versed in staving off exhaustion in favor of getting work done. And he had one giant mess he needed to work to get out of.

"Okay. Are you getting restless, sweetheart?"

He jerked his leg, making the thick chain rattle as a reply to her.

"Oh. They've got you chained, too. You must be a fierce thing, you know that? Last time someone was chained it was–"

Who? Who was it? The way her voice faded gave his anxiety a chance to start creeping back up from where he had been trying to keep it caged. Its slender tendrils fingered his heart and his stomach twisted up into a pretzel.

"Sorry, it was a big brute that resisted the drugs better than I think they thought he would. If I'm recalling correctly, he had been using steroids and they hadn't anticipated that. Kind of funny, when you think about it. A bad habit almost got him out of here."

Almost. That was the word he latched onto. It _almost_ got him out of here. There could be no _almost_ for him. He had a daughter to get back to. Grace, with her sweet smiling face and silky pigtails. Grace, who he couldn't let Step Stan raise. He had a team to get back to, too. Despite his grouching, he took pride in his job and didn't want an early retirement.

His eyes narrowed into defiant slits. He was going to get out of here. No more waiting on the team. He had faith that they would be there to back him up when the time came. He had to have faith. But now he was taking his rescue into his own hands.

* * *

Kono finally threw her hands up in the air and faced her boss fully. She was _this_ close to decking him to get him off her back. If they hadn't been in the situation they were in, she would have. The only thing saving his face at this point was the fact that she knew why he was behaving this way. The way he was looming so closely and watching her every move as she scanned through not only the manifests and marina records, but also old cases, was the straw that finally broke her back.

"Steve! Back up!" she made a shooing motion. "I can't work with you hovering and hounding me."

"Kono–"

"Oahu is a major port. There're so many ships and boats coming and going, commercial and private and military, that I have no freaking clue where to even start! We don't even know when or if he's left the island, or even–"

"Easy, cuz," Chin walked in briskly, sliding his phone back into his pocket. "They confirmed that the boat Caroline described left at four o'clock this morning, heading due south. It was a small fishing vessel and the dock master said it just looked like a couple of buddies getting an early start to their day."

Steve turned his intense look towards Chin. "Did you get a description?"

"One white guy with long black hair and one oriental guy with a big tattoo of a shark on one leg," Chin said. "It's not much."

"No, it's not," Steve exhaled harshly through his nose. He let off a cloud of steam with the exhale and glared at it as it swirled away.

"Hey," Chin waited until he had his attention on him again. "We're going to find him. Danny's tough. He'll hold out until we can get there."

Steve didn't say anything, but nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. Chin pulled his phone back out as it rang, recognized the name, and set it on the smart table.

"Go ahead, Fong, you've got all of us," he said.

Steve unfolded his arms and braced his hands on the smart table as he listened. Kono leaned in, too.

" _That vial you found at the suspect's house? You're never going to believe what was in it."_

"What was it?" Steve questioned.

" _Mostly it was stabilizers, but there were significant amounts of an unidentified toxin."_

"Toxin?" Kono echoed, looking worriedly between the other two.

" _Not a toxin per se, but actually a compound found in a toxin. I had a gut feeling and sent it over to Max. He just got back to me with a positive confirmation of what it's from."_

Steve had no time for dramatic reveals or showmanship. "Fong, today would be nice."

" _The compound is only found in the toxin that's produced by Black Dragon Eels."_

The three of them shared horrified looks with each other.

"Black Dragon Eel toxin is what made you guys shift before, right? That's what Max had said," Kono looked at him.

"Steve," Chin's eyes locked onto his.

"Yeah, I know," Steve scrubbed his hands down his face as it contorted with a whole new layer of stress. "They know Danny's a dragon."

* * *

Danny had barely started to examine the shackle on his ankle when he heard the soft voices approaching from outside of the container. He struggled back into the position he had been in when he had first woken up, grunting when his leg and wing protested at having his weight lying on them again. Tamarin had clammed up as well and he was thankful that she didn't seem to plan on giving him away.

His eyes slammed closed as the bar on the big heavy door slid back and the hinges creaked. He saw bright light through his eyelids, but refused to acknowledge anything. As far as they were concerned, he was drugged up to his eyeballs and unconscious.

"This is our newest addition."

The gravelly voiced woman. The one that made him on edge with her warm voice that was belied by its cold and soulless undertones that probably only he could detect.

There was a delighted squeal and a much younger, giggly voice spoke. "You guys have a Cliff?"

"I must say, I wasn't sure what to expect, but you do have a wide variety, don't you?" That was a young man's voice. He sounded aloof and like the kind of man Danny would want to smack with a two by four.

"Only the best for our clients. Now, I take it that you want him?"

"Oh, most definitely. Look at those colors and those scales and those wings, he's gorgeous!"

"Honey, are you sure? Cliffs are fire breathers and look at those claws."

Honey, wouldn't a much smaller dog suit your tastes? Maybe something that can't tear up the mansion while we're taking a champagne bath in our solid gold tub? What the hell? Was he up for sale? The two young dopes were talking about him like he was a Labrador puppy in a pet shop.

"Baby, I know what I want, and I want _him_."

Well, as much as he hated the idea, if he was auctioned off he may have a chance to escape in transit. These two didn't sound the brightest, and how could they be if they were planning on buying a _dragon_? A living, breathing being that was in the same class as a human when it came to rights and laws? Trafficking was still trafficking, dumb schmucks.

"Alright, dear, I suppose he'll do."

"Fantastic. Do you want to look at some of the females, or are you–"

"Oh, no. No, no, no, and lose this body? No, thank you. We'll look at the females."

The heavy door swung shut and the bar locked in place again.

Danny sat up shakily, head spinning with the conversation that had just transpired. They wanted him. They wanted him like a person wanted a greyhound from a pedigree breeder. And they wanted a female. A woman. Yet another living, breathing being that deserved respect, not this.

He stayed half way sitting up for a good long while until he was certain he could no longer hear their voices or the clack of the young lady's heels.

"I'm sorry. I'm–"

The words were almost so quiet he missed them entirely. He tapped the side of the container in question. Tamarin's follow up sent chills down his spine.

"They liked you. I'm so, so sorry."

* * *

"Boss, I've got a lead."

Steve snapped his head up towards her, motioning for her to wait for a moment as he was on the phone. She nodded and bounced on the balls of her feet at the doorway while he finished up his dreaded conversation with Rachel.

"We're doing everything we can. Kono has a lead," Steve said with a great deal of effort put into keeping his voice controlled and even. "Tell Grace that we're going to bring Danno home. Okay. Bye."

"How're they doing?" Kono asked.

Steve sighed. "They're scared. Grace keeps asking where he is and Rachel is terrified that someone's going to come after them. What's your lead?"

Kono gestured for him to follow her. She tapped at the screen of the smart table and with a flick of her fingers sent the files up to the hanging screens for him to see. Bank statements, company files, and identity checks among other things popped up.

"Remember Jerome Caine?"

Steve snorted. "How can I forget? He tried to kill all of us with those malasadas."

"Did you ever think that maybe it was a bit odd that he used Black Dragon Eels to target us?" she asked, and the question genuinely surprised him.

"No, but now that you mention it, there are easier ways to kill people."

"Exactly what I was thinking," she came to stand by him and pointed at one of the files from that case. "And look at the dates of when he admitted to smuggling the eels in and when he was alerted that we were onto him."

He squinted and then frowned. "He already had the eels on the island when we burned that third alias."

"So, that made me think that he didn't pull all those strings to get them to kill us. He just used them because he had them on hand."

"He was going to sell them to someone. Who?"

"I went back through his bank statements and found one transaction that at the time didn't seem to be related to anything he was being convicted of, but when I started digging into that particular business it fell apart. It doesn't exist."

"It was a front."

"It was like one of those handkerchiefs that a clown pulls out of his sleeve. The more I tugged on it, the more fronts and nonexistent people appeared. And then I think I finally reached the end," she reached behind her and tossed one picture up onto the screens front and center. "Meet Jeffrey Mills."

White guy. Long black hair. Narrow face. Brown eyes. Mid-thirties. Scruffy looking. It was a face that Steve now seared into his memory. He matched the loose description of one of the men at the dock where Caroline had delivered his partner. There was a name to the face and Steve hoped that Jeffrey could feel the crosshairs locking onto him. There was no escape now that he was in his sights.

"What do you have on him?" he asked.

"Other than a money trail that leads from Caine to him, not much," Kono muttered. "He's lived on the island for the last decade, but there're no records of him in the HPD database or any other database. Just a driver's license and an employment record."

"Where does he work?"

Steve glanced at Chin as he entered the bullpen while Kono pulled up Jeffrey's work history. The man looked tired and wore a stormy expression on his face.

"That was the Coast Guard," he said.

"Did they find anything?" Steve asked, already knowing the answer from the tone of Chin's voice and his body language.

"No. No sign of the boat that they took out, either in the ocean or at any of the marinas or docks around this island or the others," Chin set his hands on his hips and exhaled, staring at the ground a second before looking back up. "Duke also called. They finished the sweep of Samuel's place."

"And?" Steve asked, but this time his abdomen clenched at the tone and body language.

"They found dragon parts in the basement," he said quietly.

His stomach roiled and a cold tingle traveled up and down his limbs, making his palms break into a sweat and raising the hairs on his arms and neck. He almost didn't want to ask as the very real and new possibility of his partner's whereabouts opened up.

He barely choked it out. "Danny?"

Some of the tension eased when Chin shook his head. "Older. They found a heart, bone powder, Wyvern talons, and a piece of Serpent hide."

The tension was quickly replaced by a building rage. His hands tightened into fists and his teeth gritted against each other. He needed to have another conversation with Samuel down in their interrogation room where no one could hear him scream.

He was turning on his heel when Kono spoke.

"Looks like Jeffrey works for a Marilyn Walker," she brought a picture of the woman up. She was older with a weathered face and dirty blonde hair that had almost completely grayed to a platinum color. "She's lived here on the island for most of her life and owns a mansion up on the North Shore."

"What does he do for her?" Chin asked.

"Seems like he's just a hired hand, doing odd jobs," she said.

Steve snorted. This wasn't helping. He wanted to get back into the interrogation room and put some of his training to use in making Samuel talk. Apparently, their earlier conversation hadn't scared him enough even though he had seemed thoroughly rattled at the time. He would fix that. This time the man would be petrified.

"Hey, get this," Kono once again stayed him. She swept a document up onto the screens. "Marilyn owns the _Hathor's Joy_."

He perked up at that. "The one Jeffrey and the other guy took from the dock this morning?"

"Nah, brah," she shook her head. "She doesn't own a boat."

Steve faced her. "What? You just said–"

"She doesn't own a _boat_. She owns a _ship_."

* * *

The cuff on his right hind ankle was some form of thick metal. Shifting was not an option, apparently, seeing as when he tried his headache worsened and he had the distinctive feeling that some type of drug or toxin was responsible for the forced shift and for him having to remain in dragon form.

With that out, he went through his other options. Had he been able to stoke, he could've melted down another piece of metal and maybe used the molten slag to weaken the cuff enough to break it. He might have been able to bite through the chain if he could get it between the heavy duty molars at the back of his mouth. As it was, not being able to open his mouth left him with limited options.

His heart pounded and he remained stock still at a shuffling sound, but relaxed slightly when he pinpointed it as Tamarin moving around next door.

Focus, Danny, focus. What would Super SEAL do? Use a grenade to blow off the chain. Forget the fact that his foot would be collateral damage. A small, manic laugh bubbled in his chest as his panic rose. No grenade. Use brains, not brawn.

He took a few slow and steady breaths before continuing. The cuff was too thick for him to worry about using his claws on as was the chain. He could pull a _127 Hours_ and cut off his own foot, but even though the situation was desperate it wasn't there yet. If the cuff, chain, and foot were not options, then what?

He leaned in closer and ignored the tug of the nose tube. What was the chain attached to?

Unlike the nose tube that ran through a little hole to the outside of his prison, the chain was anchored to the inside. Bolts held a half loop of metal to the wall and that was where the chain's last link was attached. Orange and brown discolored the silver metal. It was rusty.

Gripping the chain, he slid his claws along it until he had picked up the slack and then increased the tension on it by leaning his weight back. The anchor squeaked and came away from the wall just the smallest fraction of an inch, but it was enough to bolster his resolve. He continued to pull the chain by leaning more of his weight back. Come on, come on.

Danny huffed. A fraction of an inch was all he was going to get.

Clenching his teeth, he slid his claws along the length of the chain again and stopped when he reached the anchor. Wedging the tip of one claw under it and making tiny wiggle motions, his heart soared as the bolt started to give. Righty tighty, lefty loosely.

The bolt falling to the ground was almost deafening in his quiet confined space.

"Sweetheart? What're you doing?"

Escaping.

With a few more moments of finagling he freed the other bolt and pulled the chain loose of its anchor. His triumph beat back his panic and anxiety from earlier, forcing them to lie still and shut up for the time being.

Now free to move, his next obstacles were the band around his mouth and the actual escape from the container. And he had a decidedly McGarrett worthy idea of how to do that.

* * *

To be specific, Marilyn owned an older, smaller cargo ship that had been converted into what was essentially a massive yacht. From what the two frantic tech wizards could gather, it was a floating party mansion that catered to the rich and wealthy. To add to that, it was only accessible by those that had connections and Marilyn's approval. The _Hathor's Joy_ , much to their annoyance, was not docked nor did anyone have any clue where it was.

Steve set his hands on the smart table and rolled the stress kinks out of his neck. "Okay, the dock master said that Jeffrey and his buddy left the dock at 0400 hours and headed due south."

"You're thinking that they were going out to meet her ship," Chin stated.

Steve slipped his phone from his pocket and dialed, putting it on speaker and laying it on the smart table's screen.

" _Personal assistant to Steven McGarrett, how can I help you?"_

The cousins chuckled at Catherine's opening line.

"Cath, we need your help," Steve's mouth twitched with a faint hint of a smirk at her voice, but the worries of finding his partner overrode his pleasure.

" _Steve, what happened?"_

"Danny was abducted."

" _Oh my god, is Grace okay?"_

He smiled at the concern. "Yeah, she's fine."

" _How can I help?"_

"We know that Danny was put on a boat early this morning and we think the boat was meeting up with a ship owned by Marilyn Walker," Kono said.

"But we can't get the ship's coordinates," Steve added.

" _Do you have a general idea where it is? I can't just pull coordinates out of thin air."_

"The dock master said the boat headed due south at 0400 hours this morning," Steve said.

"The ship we think it was going to meet with is called the _Hathor's Joy_ , and is a converted cargo ship. Very high end and pleasure oriented," Chin said. "The last place it checked in at was Panama when it came over from the Caribbean a month ago."

" _I'll see what I can do. Do you have a manifest for where its next stop is?"_

"We can't turn up anything," Kono shook her head.

" _Okay. I'll let you know if I find anything. And Steve?"_

"Yeah?"

" _Please be careful, and bring Danny home."_

* * *

Tamarin was startled by the sudden thrashing that came from the container her newfound companion Danny was in. He had kept quiet after the couple had visited, but now it sounded like Godzilla was beating the metal walls and her heart pounded a staccato rhythm against her ribs.

"Sweetheart? Danny, what're you doing? What's wrong?"

Forgetting her own pains, she sat up and pressed her head against the wall. Amongst all of the clanging and banging and the strange echoes they produced, she heard the familiar tapping of his claws on the wall against her container.

A fearful yet hopeful smile caught on her face and tears welled in her eyes as the puzzle pieces came together. At least, she hoped that it wasn't her desperate mind clutching at straws.

"You are fierce, sweetheart. Incredibly fierce."

* * *

He was preoccupied with strapping on his vest and it took Chin's disgruntled hum for him to pick his head up and see Mauna standing there in the bullpen with her hands on her hips watching them gear up.

"What're you doing here?" he asked. He wasn't as harsh as he had been that morning, because now they had a plan and he'd had some time to let his unfounded anger at her cool off.

"You guys are going to need a doctor when you find him."

"You're not coming with us. You're a civilian," he grunted as he checked his gun and slid the magazine back in.

"Do I look like I care?" she asked.

"Does it look like I do?" he shot back.

"Listen," she hissed and then paused, taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I want to help. He disappeared from under my care and that's eating me. Let me come."

Steve shared a look with the cousins at the unusually low and soft tone she was speaking in.

Mauna's eyes met his. "If you're worried about me being around a hail of gunfire, don't. I can handle myself. I've seen lots of scary things in lots of scary countries."

As he once again looked at the cousins he could tell they were thinking the same thing. The Black Dragon Eel toxin would have forced Danny to shift and they had no clue what kind of shape they would find him in. Having a doctor the four of them already knew and one that seemed versed in dragon care tagging along with them may not be such a bad idea.

"Please," Mauna added.

Steve finally relented. "You wear a vest and stay with one of us at all times, understood?"

Mauna saluted him with two fingers and went with Kono to get geared up.

* * *

His muscles throbbed and the headache angrily pounded in his head as he threw himself around his prison. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. Lying on his side, he was mimicking a seizure with violent thrashes and kicks and clangs, using the leading edge of his wing to hit the top of the container and thumping his tail down repeatedly. He had even bit his own tongue and resisted gagging at the metallic taste filling his mouth.

Through the cacophony of his own movements he barely heard steps thundering towards him. A slot slid back and a pair of eyes peered in at him.

"Damn it, he's seizing. Open the crate, open the crate!"

The heavy door swung open on its creaking hinges and through partially lidded eyes he counted two people and only two. One had a gun and the other had a black duffle bag, which he set down as he dropped to his knees to examine him. Show time.

Danny made a choking gasp and spit blood.

"Crap, we need to get this muzzle off and get at least his head upright so he doesn't aspirate," the kneeling man said. "Give me a hand with this."

The other man set his weapon aside and bent down on one knee. He wrapped his arms around Danny's neck and hefted his head off the ground, trying to hold him steady against the spasms. He felt the first man's fingers scrabbling at the muzzle on his snout as he tried fit a key into the lock.

Then the metal band clattered to the floor.

Danny slammed the man holding his neck into the side of the container. As he slumped into a heap he cuffed the other man's head into the other side of the container. He heaved himself to his feet and clambered over the bodies into the lit corridor, which actually looked more like a basement now that he was seeing it.

The lighting wasn't as bright as he had originally anticipated and blamed it on his unadjusted eyes. In the moderate lighting, he could make out five metal shipping containers on one side of the room and then five more on the other side. Most of them had a bag of whatever hanging to the side of the door with the tubes disappearing inside, presumably going into the nostrils of more dragons.

With a disgusted look, he snaked his own nose tube out and blinked as his eyes watered once it was free. He shoved the heavy door shut and slid the big locking bar into place. Black fuzzy spots edged his vision from the sudden burst of activity, but he pushed through them and made his way to the stairs on the far side of the room with the chain on his ankle rattling behind him.

"Never thought I'd be so happy to see sunlight," he muttered to himself, wincing at the stinging on his tongue from where he'd intentionally cut it on a lower canine.

The stairs, which were narrow and hard to navigate in his dragon form, were lined with an embellished wooden rail that was far too elegant for a basement. The stairs emptied out of the floor like a trapdoor into a fancily decorated room with floor to ceiling glass windows. Bright afternoon sunlight drizzled lazily through them and he could see a more functional metal deck railing on the other side of the windows and beyond that was the ocean.

Fortunately, he didn't see anyone else coming.

He hooked a claw on the hatch, pulling it shut as he backed down the steps. The jangling chain was making too much of a racket for whatever cockamamie scheme he was going to inevitably enact. It would give him away. With a grunt and a muttered curse, he positioned the chain between his molars as close to the shackle as he could get and bit down.

The links groaned deeply like the sound of sheets of ice moving before breaking loose. The chain sheared two links away from the shackle, now short enough not to clatter and hinder any stealthy movements he might need to perform. Swallowing the bits of metal still trapped in his mouth, he turned his attention to the next step of his escape plan.

"Tamarin?" he called. He cleared his throat and felt the last of the metal slide into his stoking chamber as he approached the container that was to the right of the one he had been in. "Tamarin?"

He slid the locking bar back and opened the door, squinting into the darkness.

"Danny?"

"Yeah, babe, it's me," he laughed softly.

His face went slack and his eyes widened as she limped out of the container towards him.

She was an Amphibian/Serpent crossbreed covered in steel gray-blue scales with handfuls of white and navy freckles across her nose and back. He could see the Serpent with her long body, delicate whiskers, and the horns with nubby tines coming off of them. Nearly translucent turquoise fins running from her forehead down her neck and then from behind her shoulders down to mid-tail along with her shorter, more rectangular face gave away the Amphibious part. She was gaunt and dull looking with sunken eyes ringed by dark circles. It wasn't even the fact that she was missing her left hind leg from the knee down that startled him.

No, he was startled by the fact that she was very obviously heavily pregnant.

* * *

According to Catherine, the _Hathor's Joy_ wasn't as far out to sea as they had feared. They'd considered taking one of the Coast Guard's helicopters out, but bailed on that idea on the basis that they didn't want to be heard or spotted coming in case whoever was holding Danny decided to cut their losses and kill him. Instead, they'd taken the Coast Guard's fastest boat and one of their captains with a second fully manned boat speeding behind them.

"There it is," Steve pointed at a tiny speck on the horizon. "Chin, I want you guys to wait ten minutes before approaching."

"And our backup?" Chin asked with a nod over his shoulder at the second vessel.

"They know to hang back until you radio them. I don't want any more people than necessary to know about Danny."

"Careful out there, brah," Chin patted his shoulder and turned to his cousin. "Kono, be careful."

"Don't worry, cuz," she hugged him briefly and then followed their boss.

Steve stripped and didn't wait for her as he dove into the water off the stern of the boat, shifting smoothly as he disappeared beneath the waves. He tightened the straps of his waterproof bag around one foreleg to ensure their sat phones, spare clothes, and weapons didn't float away. He felt rather than saw when Kono plunged in seconds later and shifted as he had. He caught her eyes as the nictitating membrane slid across his to protect them from the saltwater. She gave him the thumbs up.

Surfacing for a breath of air, he filled his lungs and dove. The two sea monsters powered under the surface of the ocean and made a straight line for the ship they were gambling that their friend was on.

* * *

It was then that Danny fully grasped what this place was, who he had been kidnapped by. The tidbits he had heard earlier, the couple that had been shopping around, Tamarin, it all clicked into a gruesome picture. It was a nightmare inducing story that cops whispered about around the precinct and it made his stomach churn. But he couldn't think about that right now. Right now, all that mattered was that they needed to escape.

"Tamarin, are any of the others awake?" he asked. After spotting the other crates he had hoped he could possibly rouse a mutiny, but taking in her appearance made him think that anyone that had been here longer than him would be in the same shape, even if they weren't drugged.

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, sweetheart. They keep the men drugged and usually only pregnant women are left awake."

"Are the drugs in the nose tubes or are they administered some other way?" he asked. He went to the container to the right of Tamarin's and shoved the door open, revealing a subdued Drake that didn't even stir. He hesitantly shut the door on the container.

"Honey, I don't know. I've been here so long they've changed things," she whispered.

Danny pivoted to face her, really taking her in. The smooth and kind voice didn't seem like it should be coming from such a miserable looking being. And was he right? Was she as young as he was guessing despite the tired eyes and battered fins?

"Tamarin, how old are you?" he asked softly.

"Twenty-four, maybe," she replied, swaying slightly on her three legs.

He reached out to steady her and felt like a giant for once in his life. Her head probably only came up to his shoulder in dragon form and her thin limbs reminded him of a withered reed that could snap should the wind blow hard enough.

"Sit down for a second, okay? Just, take it easy and don't worry for the moment, huh?" he said, helping her sit on her haunches. "How long have you been here?"

She glanced down at her nimble front feet with their painfully short claws and counted silently. Her pale eyes bored into his when she looked up again. "Five years."

"Five years? _Five years?_ "

It started as a low rumble in his chest and blossomed into a thoroughly intimidating growl. His wings trembled with a barely controlled fury as he stalked back over to the stairs. He snapped his teeth on the fancy wooden railing, pulling bits and pieces of it off and swallowing them down into his stoking chamber. If there was ever a time to be put his fire breathing capabilities to use, this was it.

Confused voices came from the room above his head and made him pause.

Should they barricade themselves in? It was a defensible position, but for how long would it remain that way? They could be trapped in the basement for hours or longer, depending on who got the upper hand. And he had no clue when his team was going to miraculously show up, he just knew that they would at some point. However, as long as that point remained undetermined, he needed another plan.

"How many guys are there?" he asked.

She grimaced and hissed through gritted teeth, "I don't know. I've counted six that regularly check on us down here and then the woman in charge, but there could be more."

Danny watched her carefully. The husband and father part of him realized what was going on half a second faster than the rest of his brain. "Are you in labor? Babe, you're having contractions, aren't you?"

She nodded subtly.

"Why is the only thing that I can ever count on Murphy's Law?" he flicked one set of claws out in imitation of his hand gestures. The voices above came closer. "Tamarin, hide in your container."

Her eyes widened and she looked alarmed.

Stupid, stupid! She'd been locked in a container for five years, of course she wouldn't want to go back into one. "Hey, hey, Tamarin, sweetie, I promise that it'll only be for a couple of minutes and then we're getting out of here, okay? Okay?"

Reluctantly, she groaned as she gathered her only hind foot under her and limped back into the container. The door creaked most of the way closed.

The fire building in his chest grew in intensity and the heat spiked every time he inhaled and delivered oxygen to the inferno. This was the kind of heat he preferred over the feverish, burning veins and uncontrolled vomiting reactions that he often dealt with. This was comforting. This was invigorating.

He was waiting for them under the stairs and hidden in the shadows. Two of them had guns, but they were slung over their shoulders in a rest position. Clearly, they weren't worried.

They should have been.

He pounced on one's back, using his front foot to keep him pinned while he pivoted on his feet and used his thick tail to clothesline the other one when he raised his gun. Broken ribs for sure on that one, definitely a concussion on the other one from his forehead connecting with the unforgiving floor.

"Okay, that's four of them," he muttered as he dragged the pair of them to the container he'd been locked in and dumped them unceremoniously on top of their compatriots.

Smoke drifted hazily from his nose. The tendrils left a slightly bitter aftertaste from the sealant that had been on the wooden railing and from the bits of chain, however, the pungent woody smell came out on top. He was prone to savor that taste, but he had more pressing things to worry about.

After scaling the stairs and checking to see if anyone was close by, he was surprised when he couldn't see anyone on deck. It was a ghost ship.

* * *

Steve slithered up the ladder onto the low part of the stern with Kono on his heels. His face crinkled at the scent of fish guts and blood as did hers. He had wondered why there had been so many White Tips hanging around the slow moving ship. They must have dumped their leftovers overboard, be that fish or something more disturbing.

The pair of them shifted back down into humans and hastily dressed. They strapped on their tactical vests, checked their guns, and clipped their sat phones to their belts.

Steve waved his hand forward and they fell into an easy rhythm of staying low and checking every nook and cranny as they moved towards the bow. It was a big ship, not as big as the cargo ships that ported in Oahu or that carried stacks of containers, but bigger than any yacht either of them had been on.

Kono neatly and quietly dropped one guy that appeared behind them. She zip tied him to the deck railing and relieved him of any weapons he was carrying.

"You know, for a ship like this, I thought there'd be more people on it," Kono murmured once they continued sweeping the area.

Steve agreed. "How many people did you find on the ship's roster?"

"Only twelve," she said. "Must be a skeleton crew."

"Fewer people make for fewer security breaches," he put his hand up and they halted.

Shouting came from around the edge of the stern most cabin. Steve glanced around the wall and instantly recognized the one doing the talking. Jeffrey Mills.

"I don't care what's happened, but get it contained. Now!" he waved two men off. "And none of the stock better be harmed, understand? If Miss Walker sees one scratch on that Cliff, she's going to have your heads."

Kono growled. "Son of a–"

Steve held his hand up to silence her. Though sharing the same sentiment, he motioned for her follow him as he gave Jeffrey a wide berth and continued on his forward march to the bow. They would worry about Jeffrey later. He wanted to deal with the men that were heading towards his partner.

* * *

Marilyn sighed heavily to herself. This situation was unfortunate. She hated for anything to go wrong when they had such a good stock on this ship. Four females that were an Amphibious/Serpent, an Arboreal/Drake, an Arboreal, and a Wyvern and then originally six males, now down to five since the death of their Amphibious/Drake. The first and foremost of the remaining males she was determined not to lose was the newly acquired Cliff. His rarity would allow for her to push for higher prices and draw in new clients that simply couldn't pass up the chance to own a Cliff crossbreed.

She checked her handgun and then headed below to the storage deck. Staying on the upper steps, she cautiously gazed through the hazy smoke and floating ashes that filled the area. Six men had gone down and not a single one had come back up. Obviously one of the dragons had gotten loose and judging by the smoke she decided it was the Cliff.

However, there was no sign of him and another container's door was left ajar.

"Damn."

He had absconded away with her pregnant Amphibious/Serpent female. The Farthings were expecting that baby tomorrow evening and if they didn't receive it, she would not be collecting the second half of the payment.

She cast one last glance around the quiet storage deck and concluded that the pair of them had gone out the secondary door that was used to move the containers in and out.

Knowing where they were heading, she set off to intercept them and radioed Jeffrey for assistance.

* * *

Chin and Mauna had slipped aboard not five minutes ago, leaving the Coast Guard captain in control of the boat and instructing him to follow at a close distance. Quite frankly, Chin was stunned by how quiet it was. The skeleton crew of twelve must not have had a noisy run in with Steve and Kono yet. Their approaching boat hadn't even raised any alarms.

Chin caught his cousin's eye as she emerged from the shadows and prowled up the five short, wide steps into the bow most cabin. She nodded imperceptibly and did a quick sweep of the smaller cabin before motioning for them to come in.

"We've taken down one guy so far, and we're following two others to where they're hopefully holding Danny," Kono explained. "We're keeping it low and slow. So far no one knows we're aboard."

"I can tell," Chin said. "Where'd the two guys go?"

Kono made a face. "We don't know. They walked towards this cabin ten minutes ago and then they disappeared. We saw Marilyn Walker walk out and then she disappeared, too."

"Weird," Chin commented.

"I know, it's super weird."

"You guys smell that?" Mauna asked suddenly.

The cousins sniffed the air and frowned.

"Smells like something's burning," Kono said.

"Smells like it's wood, though, not oil or gas," Chin said. A small grin appeared. He'd smelled that scent before around Danny. He was stoking.

Mauna agreed and stepped towards the windows, her foot thudding hollowly on a section of the flooring. She dropped into a crouch. Her fingers searched around the floor and flipped a hidden latch up. With a hard yank, a secret hatch opened.

"What do you want to bet there're secret passages like this all over the ship?" Chin said as he held his gun at the ready and descended the narrow stairs into the dark.

It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust, but when they did the gravity of what they had stumbled upon hit them like a ton of bricks.

Shipping containers, five on each side of the room, took up most of the space. The moderately dim lighting illuminated the struggle that had gone on. Part of the railing was missing and smoke hung in the air. A single container amongst them had its door thrown wide open. But the smell that was underlying the smoke was stale and depressing.

Chin slid back the bar on one container and pulled the door open. Words eluded him. There were no words. Absolutely no words. He sighed heavily and Kono echoed him. Mauna cursed unintelligibly on the other side of the room where she was pulling open more doors.

Chin and Kono whipped towards the narrow stairs when they creaked. They lowered their weapons and Steve did the same.

"Danny?" he asked quietly. His face was a darkened scowl and every muscle in his body was strung as tight as a piano string as he took in the room.

At Chin's unsure look, Steve set about pulling open the rest of the containers on the left side of the room. Chin covered him while Kono covered Mauna as she bent to examine one of the sedated dragons.

The second container from the end was the open one and it was empty. The two of them glanced each other, wondering the same thing. Maybe Danny had escaped. Steve slid the bar back on the last container and heaved the door open. He brought his weapon up.

"I think they're unconscious," Chin said. He eased his shotgun down.

With two sets of hands working they managed to zip tie all six men in nearly a minute. Only one of them was awake and mumbling weakly, but sounded dazed and of no threat. Three of the others had bleeding head wounds and facial bruising, but the last two reeked of smoke and bits of their clothing were charred.

"Danny?" Chin perked a brow.

Steve nodded. It was Danny's work for sure. He turned the flashlight on his gun on and used it to start exploring every inch of the container. Chin pulled out his flashlight and did the same. The container was twenty feet long and eight feet wide, probably eight and a half feet tall. It was a tight fit for anything that wasn't a Drake or a small dragon. It was dark and cool, and the wadded up blanket on the floor would've provided little comfort in the pathetic prison.

Chin's fingers curled into a fist and he glared at the floor for a second. A glinting caught his attention.

He stooped and picked up the circular metal band, holding it up in the beam of his light for Steve to see. "What do you make of this?"

Steve stalked over and took it out of his hand with a glower. He vented an irritated puff of steam. "I don't know."

"Hey, Boss, there's another door over here," Kono called.

Steve tossed the unidentified metal loop back on the floor and jogged over to meet the two women standing by a large opening that had been hidden on the other side of the last container on the right side of the room. It looked like a garage door and it was definitely big enough to allow for fully shifted dragons to be moved in and out.

He pulled the slide back on his gun and cocked it. "Let's go."

* * *

Danny paused to take a deep breath. The air was fresh and laced with a subtle salty scent. Sunlight warmed his scales and he could almost physically feel it pouring down on him like honey drizzling on his face and wings. Privately he made a promise he would never again complain about the amount of sunshine that Hawaii received. A bank of lumpy white clouds lined one part of the horizon, but even they looked friendly and warm.

There was a soft gasp from behind his head.

Evoking a bit of his partner, he had taken a 'leave no man behind' attitude. While he couldn't wake the other seven dragons in the basement, he refused to leave Tamarin behind. Without knowing exactly how many bad guys there were or what they would do should they find that he had escaped and released her, he made sure she stayed close.

On his back, in fact, where he could feel her contractions becoming longer and closer together. Right now, though, she sounded overwhelmed by the sunlight.

"I haven't been outside in so long."

His teeth clenched and his brows lowered as he shuffled along between the wall and the deck railing with his wings slightly out to keep the lightweight Tamarin in place. She had been the one to point out the second door. It had led into a corridor big enough to fit a shipping container through and it had eventually emptied out in the stern of the ship, coming to an end behind a false wall surrounded by fancy lounge chairs.

"What's the plan, sweetheart?"

"Ah, I didn't actually think I'd make it this far," Danny said sheepishly.

"Well, that's reassuring."

Going in the water had seemed like the only option to getting off the ship. They could float until his team found them or until the Coast Guard did. Except, the longer that plan sat in his mind, the more dangerous and stupid it sounded. There was no way of telling if his team had even found out he wasn't on the island anymore and who knew when the Coast Guard would find them. If he was by himself, there was a higher chance he'd risk it.

As it was, he didn't float very well in dragon form and there was no way he'd be able to keep the pregnant and in labor Tamarin floating if he was in human form. And what if the baby came while they were at the mercy of the open ocean? Nope, the diving into the water plan was shelved until push came to shove.

"Don't worry, we'll get off this floating freak show," he stopped again, this time listening for any signs of people over his own ragged breathing. His legs shook slightly and the headache thumped incessantly at the base of his skull.

"You're very fierce. So, what are you? Coming out of Hawaii, I'd say Danny the Navy boy?" Tamarin hissed through a contraction.

Danny clucked his still raw tongue. "Detective Danny. My partner is the Navy boy."

Tamarin froze for a moment. "You're a cop?"

"Second in command of the Five-0 Taskforce," he said.

"What's Five-0? Is that a special Hawaiian thing?"

He stopped. Was that talking? He strained to see if he could make out words or if it was just the water washing off the sides of the ship. He couldn't tell as he started his snail's pace walk again, rounding the edge of the stern most cabin.

"I was unaware that Hopkins had gotten his hands on a police officer."

The familiar gravelly voice rose the ridge of scales on the back of his neck. He stiffly turned to face the woman and the man with the rifle leveled at him.

"He really should be more careful," the woman tsked. "Now, what did you do with my men?"

Danny let Tamarin slide off his back. He stepped in front of her, angling one wing down so that she was hidden from the two others. They were on the lowest part of the ship where it smelled of fish and gore. The textured decking was slick with the spray that came from their wake and he instinctively dug his claws in to maintain traction.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. He may have to go with the diving into the water plan, after all. It was a fifteen or twenty foot plunge to the ocean off the deck they were on, but he was unsure if he could get Tamarin over the railing fast enough.

The woman shook her head. "Never mind. Stand down and come with me."

"You know, for once in my life I'm enjoying this famed Hawaiian sunlight, so I'm going to stay right here, okay?"

The man glanced at the woman, raising the rifle a little. "Ma'am?"

"Hey, you shoot me and then you lose your Cliff, and you don't want that, right?" he reminded them. If he had the rarity card then he might as well play it.

"I hate to damage a specimen such as yourself, but if you refuse to stand down and relinquish that female you're trying to protect, then we'll have to ground you," the woman said.

Danny snorted and then growled, "That _female_ has a name, if you'd care to know. Dragons are not animals, we are not something that you can just steal and auction off! What kind of messed up in the head do you have to be to run an operation like this, huh?"

The woman's cold eyes held his. "A business forward head, and if it gets me called names then so be it. Jeffrey, if you would."

Jeffrey sighted him in. Danny tensed.

"Five-0, don't move!"

His heart stuttered.

He had never been so relieved in his entire life as his team closed in around the man and woman.

Chin, with his big beautiful shotgun, and Kono, looking like a deadly beauty with her handgun, kept their weapons trained on the pair as his insane and yet decidedly best friend relieved Jeffrey of the rifle and roughly zip tied his wrists behind his back.

"This is Five-0?" Tamarin whispered up to him.

He nodded light headedly and sat his butt on the ground before he fell.

"Stay here," Steve ordered and left the cousins to keep an eye on the two while he walked over. "Hey, man, long time no see."

"Never thought I'd be so happy to see your ugly mug, you Neanderthal," Danny exhaled shakily. He extended his left wing and wrapped it around Steve as his partner gave him a one-armed side hug. "Steve, this is Tamarin."

Steve looked around him and smiled charmingly at her before his eyes widened.

"Sweetheart here had the same reaction," Tamarin said and patted her belly.

"We've got to get to a hospital," Danny forced himself back onto his feet. "She's in labor."

"She's in _what_?"

The familiar smoky and stern voice brought him a small comfort. Mauna peeled out from behind the cousins and gave him a quick glance before lowering to her knees next to Tamarin. She muttered something about not being an obstetrician before quietly conversing with Tamarin while taking the vitals she could without any instruments.

Danny sighed. When he looked up again he caught Steve staring at him, at his face in particular. The undivided attention made him uncomfortable.

"What? Why are you staring at me? If you're going to start asking questions again, I'm not in the mood, Steven," he grumbled.

Suddenly Steve broke away and walked back towards the cuffed pair. His fist snapped out quick as a snake and cracked Jeffrey across the jaw. Rubbing his knuckles and leaving the cursing man on the ground, he came back over and pointed at him.

"That was a jaw clamp we found. They had you muzzled, didn't they?" Steve was pissed, more pissed than Danny had ever seen him.

Danny reached up and lightly touched his snout. The nicks from his desperate clawing earlier had scabbed over, but he would bet that it was chafed looking and likely bruised. The tough hide and much smaller, thinner scales on his face wouldn't hide the vivid purples and reds and greens like the rest of his scales would.

Steve scrubbed a hand through his hair and addressed the others. "Alright, let's load up the boat and let the Coast Guard handle this."

Tamarin breathed out heavily and then looked up at them. "What about the other one?"

The team turned as one to look at her.

"The other one?" Danny questioned.

"Don't you dare, you little whelp," the woman hissed at Tamarin.

"Shut up," Kono snapped.

"Tamarin," Steve's voice softened and he crouched in front of her. "What other one?"

Tamarin looked fearfully at the woman, shrinking back against Danny. He draped his wing over her and Mauna set a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She swallowed and narrowed her eyes defiantly. "It's another ship called _Ostara's Charm_. It's never far behind this one."

Steve radioed in and the cousins marched the two criminals into one of the cabins. With a grateful and drained sigh, Danny sank down onto the ground. His team always came through for him. They were the one other thing he could count on besides Murphy's Law.

* * *

"So, according to Mauna the Columbian Water Claw extract she gave me Monday was what kept their sedatives from keeping me out as long as they should have," Danny's hand waved through the air slightly as he and Steve walked down a hallway at King's Medical Center late Wednesday morning.

"If you hadn't have gotten bitten by that snake in the first place you probably wouldn't have been kidnapped," Steve said sourly.

"True," Danny nodded. His fingertips danced tenderly across the bruising on the bridge of his nose and the scrapes there. "But, if I hadn't have gotten kidnapped, then we would've never known about this operation and wouldn't have been able to shut it down."

Steve couldn't argue that fact. Danny could see his jaw pull taut like he wanted to, but it was the truth. Marilyn Walker's operation had been operating under the noses of countless authorities for a number of years without anyone being the wiser. It was only because he, a cop and the best friend of a reserve Navy SEAL, had been taken that her operation had come into the limelight, otherwise there was no telling how long she could have gone on undetected.

"So, are the nut jobs talking? Did you guys get anything out of them?" Danny asked.

He had gone straight to the hospital for monitoring as soon as they had gotten back and the Black Dragon Eel toxin had worn off enough for him to shift. A member of his team stayed with him every minute of every hour and an HPD officer staked out his room until he was released earlier that morning. They had kept him partially updated, but not on every detail of the case.

"Jeffrey's talking, Marilyn's not," Steve said and crossed his arms tightly across his chest. "Doesn't really matter. Jeffrey's confession along with Doctor Noah Krimshaw's confession will put them all behind bars for the rest of their lives."

"Krimshaw? I thought that he wasn't onboard the other ship when the Coast Guard hit it?" Danny's brows went up. From what Chin had relayed to him last night, the doctor was missing.

"The police on the Big Island arrested him at 0600 hours this morning and shipped him over to us," Steve quirked a smirk. "He was trying to charter a private jet to the mainland."

Between the Coast Guard, HPD, and Five-0, they had arrested twenty-seven people implicated with the operation. More were popping up as Chin and Kono shredded through employment records and false identities, and they were having to coordinate with mainland authorities to catch people like Samuel and Caroline in the cities of Houston, New Orleans, Miami, San Francisco, Portland, basically if it was on the west or south coast there was a high chance the local police had been sent a wanted picture.

"What are we doing here? I thought you had been cleared to leave this morning?" Steve asked as they rounded a nurses' station.

"Are you blind? Did you not notice what floor we're on? Tamarin wanted me to come see her this morning," Danny glanced at his phone and slipped it back into the pocket on his sweats. It was almost noon, but still technically morning. He turned to one of the nurses at the station. "I'm looking for Tamarin?"

The nurse pointed around the corner to a cracked open door with a police officer standing in front of it.

Danny and Steve thanked her and then nodded to the officer who let them step inside the private room. Luckily, Tamarin hadn't given birth on their way back to the island. From what Mauna had told Danny while she had been checking him over, the young woman had shifted into human form and successfully delivered her healthy baby at the hospital.

The small woman sitting upright in the bed had a long face with a narrow nose and short dark choppy hair. She was thin and still had deep set circles around her eyes, but a grin graced her face as she spied them standing by the door.

"Hey, babe, how're you doing?" Danny asked with a small grin of his own.

"You look pretty fierce as a human, too, sweetheart," she teased lightly. Tears trailed down her face but her grin remained. "My mum and dad are flying over from England."

"That's great," he said. He pointed to the bundle cradled to her chest. "Boy or girl?"

"Boy," she hugged the sleeping baby closer and let out a shaky sigh, more tears running down her cheeks. She scrubbed them away with one hand. "Sorry, I just…I never…I never got to hold the other ones."

Danny swallowed the lump in his throat and Steve made a disgruntled sound behind him. His hands hesitantly fluttered about before coming to rest on the foot of the bed. "I'm sorry, Tamarin. What they did to you, this and your leg–"

Tamarin huffed quietly. "The leg wasn't them, sweetheart. That was my own doing when I was sixteen and snowboarded into a tree. But the baby…that was all them…."

The three of them sat in silence for a minute, the hurricane of emotions pervading the room. It was a cold and sour tang that even the sunlight spilling through the windows had a hard time warming.

"Two," she whispered, looking down into her baby's face.

"Two?" Steve repeated.

She nodded. "I had two others. Then there was a miscarriage between the second one and this one. I don't even know if the other two were girls or boys."

Danny's knuckles turned white from his grip on the rail at the end of the bed. He wanted so badly to make all those people suffer like they had made Tamarin suffer, but he wouldn't lower himself to their level. It took a particular kind of heartlessness to partake in an operation like that.

"Because of you, we found and rescued thirteen dragons from the _Ostara's Charm_ and arrested everyone aboard, including Doctor Krimshaw," Steve said.

"They're never, ever going to bother you or anyone ever again," Danny added and patted her foot.

"I just…I can't even…I can't even begin to thank you," her sweet and kind voice cracked. "If it weren't for you, sweetheart, I would've…they would've…so many other people could've been kidnapped and…just…."

"Five-0 is taking them apart and they're going to pay for what they did. It may seem like kind of a weak punishment compared to what they deserve, but they're done. All of the dragons off of the _Hathor's Joy_ and the _Ostara's Charm_ are going home," Danny assured her. When she simply nodded and wiped the steady stream of tears off her cheeks again, he decided to change the subject. "What's the little guy's name?"

Tamarin's face split into a genuine grin and she held his eyes. "I named him Danny."

* * *

 **Phew, that was a draining story to write. But it's done now. Maybe. I mean, lots of things could still happen since not all of the bad guys are dead, if you've got suggestions. *hint hint, wink wink***

 **Art page has been updated, so check that out. If you still need the link, sign in and either comment or PM me.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", after the rough week that the team has endured, Steve forces them all to take a respite on an uninhabited island where he plans to do team building and bonding.**

 **Thanks for all the reviews, views, faves, and follows!**


	39. Fact 37

**A bit of a cool down compared to the last few chapters. And no snow here yet.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #37: Just like anyone, dragons need time to recuperate.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

Steve lowered the last case onto the ground with the help of Chin and then waved him away to go do what he wanted. Sitting heavily on top of the case full of camping and tactical gear, he took the moment to observe his three team members.

It had been a hard week. Dealing with all of the paperwork and headaches involved with the Breeders case was taxing at the best of times and agonizing at the worse. He had tried to get Danny to stay at home and relax, though it was rare to see his partner in anything but a state of agitation on a good day, never mind what had happened to him in a one-two punch Monday and Tuesday. First the snake bite and then getting kidnapped. Steve didn't blame him for being wound tighter than usual.

Kono and Chin both looked as worn out as he felt, with dark circles around their eyes and dragging limbs. Kono had been prickly and snapped easily at everyone except for Danny. Whether or not that was from lack of sleep or just her irritation at the nature of the case remained unknown to Steve, but he knew better than to try and ask her. While she had been outwardly shaken, her cousin was a solemn statuesque man that glared at the smart table and spoke in short clipped sentences over the phone when coordinating with mainland authorities.

Danny, put plainly, looked like hell. Rumpled with a drawn face and dark eyes, he had picked up the habit of not working in his office for extended periods of time. He would generally work his way into Steve's office and sit on the couch while filling out paperwork or tracking down suspected affiliates of the Breeders when they cropped up during their digging. Steve didn't ask, didn't say anything, he just let him be and accepted that maybe when he was ready he would tell him what happened while he was captive, even if it took much longer than he would like to wait.

After a week of sleepless nights himself and getting snapped at by Kono and barley two words from Chin and seeing his exhausted partner, Steve had finally decided they needed time to themselves. Time to recuperate. Arranging it with the Governor hadn't been as hard as he had imagined. Denning actually agreed that the team needed to take a break from their nonstop work. HPD and mainland authorities could go a few days without Five-0 leaning over their shoulders.

"Please tell me you at least packed enough beer to last four days."

Steve looked up at Danny. He had been lost in his reflecting that he hadn't even heard him approach. His partner wore a t-shirt and shorts and was barefoot, having left his sandals over by the trees where the cousins were finagling a hammock into place. A raw and bruised halo encircled his right ankle where the shackle had sat and matching marks ghosted over the bridge of his nose. The sight of them made his blood boil once again.

"Earth to Steven, hello," a hand danced in front of his face.

He frowned and released the anger that would just go around in circles as he looked up at his partner. He reached over and dug two Longboards out of their large cooler. "Don't worry, bud, I've got us covered. We packed enough food, water, and beer to last, plus I thought Chin and I could go spear fishing for dinner tonight. You could come if you wanted."

Danny snorted as he popped the cap off and took a swig. "I can swim, I'll even get up on a board, but I refuse to go diving with you while you're armed with a spring-loaded weapon."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged and let the jab pass by.

A merciful breeze swept the scent of salt up off the ocean as it blew inwards towards the uninhabited island. It was one of many that rose out of the waves to the north of the main island chain. Unlived on and mainly untouched by human hands, it was quiet and peaceful. Steve had figured that the lack of humans would be a comfort.

Danny sat on his butt in the short grass next to their gear, picking at the delicate blades while keeping his eyes on the expanse of cerulean sea that sparkled in the midday sun.

Steve rubbed his thumb across the label on the beer bottle in his hand. "How're Rachel and Grace?"

Danny hummed lowly. "Rachel was a nervous wreck. It took me a while to convince her that this wasn't going to blowback on her and Grace."

"Didn't tell them, did you?"

"What was I supposed to tell them, huh? That I was kidnapped because I'm a dragon and that I was almost studded out? With Rachel being scared of something happening to Grace because she has Cliff blood in her, what do you think would happen if I told her the truth? She may vanish right off the face of the earth and I may never be able to see my daughter again," Danny's free hand darted out and cut through the air angrily as he talked.

Unable to contradict his partner's fears and worries, Steve simply set a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "No matter what, nothing will happen to Grace. Her and her Danno will be together. Always. Got it?"

Danny exhaled and went back to picking at the grass.

Steve set his beer down and stood up. "How about fishing the old-fashioned way?"

"What? With a pole? What do you fish with out here anyway? Worms or salmon eggs or do you use pineapple?" Danny asked.

"No," Steve shook his head and gestured for him to follow him down the onto the sandy shore. "Come on, it'll be fun."

* * *

Danny stood with his feet in the water and stared at his partner. Horns rose above the rippled turquoise sheet, the clear nictitating membrane sliding away from his eyes and a cloud of steam blowing from his nose when he surfaced. The cove that his partner had dragged him to farther down the beach was sheltered from the waves and crystal clear, and Steve had wasted no time shedding his shirt and shorts and shifting despite Danny repeatedly calling him a caveman with zero respect for civilization.

"You're an animal," he said once Steve was looking at him.

Steve's neck arched up the water and he inclined his slender head towards him. "Come on, I don't even have a weapon."

"How do you even plan on fishing? Are you going to just snatch them out of the water like a ninja?" Danny swept a hand out at the surrounding cove and sipped from his beer.

"If you'd just shift and get in, I'll show you," Steve motioned for him to come closer with a webbed front foot.

He stubbornly shook his head. "Not until you demonstrate to me how, exactly, you catch fish as a dragon."

Steve snorted out a puff of vapor and slid beneath the shimmering water. Danny watched his dark shadow undulate along the sandy seafloor, his slow moving silhouette reminding him of a shark lazily cruising across the bottom of a tank in the aquarium downtown. A small grin tugged at his lips. He already had a good idea of how this kind of fishing was done.

He was proved correct as Steve bolted to the surface with a floundering fish trapped between the many curved fangs in his jaws.

"I am not catching a fish in my mouth," Danny called out at him.

Steve dropped the fish back in the water. It amazingly swam away without a scratch on it. "Why?"

"It's scaly and, oh, I don't know, still _alive_ ," he said.

"You eat poke. What's the difference?"

"What's the difference? What's the – when I eat poke, it's not still breathing and flopping around on the plate, that's the difference."

"You're not coordinated enough to catch a fish, are you?"

"Excuse me?" Danny set his half finished beer in the sand so he could properly use both hands in demonstrating his point. "Not coordinated enough? Why would I need to be coordinated enough to catch a fish in my mouth like some kind of Neanderthal when I can use modern technology like a pole with a reel and string and a hook? And for your information, it has nothing to do with coordination. These jaws are not meant for snatching tiny things, they're meant for crushing things."

"I'm sure we can find some _ula_ for you to crack open."

"You're like an incessant pest of a mosquito that won't quit, you know that?"

They stared at each other across the gently lapping waves for a long moment. Danny hated how Steve nearly always got his way, like he was a two year old on a crying jag that finally quashed his parents' resolve to not give in. And dang it, if the sea monster didn't look like he was pouting a little bit.

"Fine. Fine!" he tossed his hands in the air and stalked towards the trees that ringed around the fringes of the island and grew denser the deeper one trekked towards the middle. While his partner may have had no qualms about stripping in front of people, he preferred his privacy.

The grin that Steve was wearing when he emerged from the trees fully shifted brought to mind every time he had caved with Grace. While his partner lacked the cute pigtails and rosy cheeks and puppy dog eyes, he certainly had some kind of look that got him his way. Danny was sure that he only caved with him out of irritation, not with fond indulgence like with his daughter.

"Happy?" he questioned as he stalked out into the water to where Steve was lounging on the seafloor. "Wipe that grin off your face. It's creepy."

Steve's face straightened for a grand total of two seconds before the grin reappeared. "Want me to teach you how to fish?"

"No," he sat in the sand on the bottom and spread his wings out, feeling the soft tug and pull as the ocean breathed around them. His diamond shaped scales flared out and allowed the water to seep in and wash through and under them. Water was not his domain and everything about his build reinforced that.

"No?"

"No," he confirmed. "I want to know what you have planned for us now that you've managed to maroon us on a deserted island for four days."

"We are not marooned. The boat has fuel and the Governor knows where we are," Steve said.

He was impressed that someone actually knew their location this time around, but didn't comment on it. He gestured with his massive claws for him to continue with answering his question.

"We could all use a break and this is the perfect place to relax and not worry about people seeing us in dragon form," Steve shrugged. "Plus, I thought we could do some team building."

"Team building?" Danny's brows furrowed. Trust falls and personality tests came to mind. "What gave you that idea, huh?"

"Not like that stupid stuff they do in offices," Steve pulled a face at the thought. "I want to teach you guys how to maneuver in dragon form. You know, night stalking, tracking, exploiting the fact that you're dragons."

"Sergeant Slaughter's boot camp?"

"No. I didn't pack any grenades."

"That's a lie."

"Flashbangs don't count."

"Yes, they do."

"Promise that you'll try and relax?"

"Learning how to stalk through the night with you as a teacher sounds extremely relaxing."

"Shut up."

They sat in the cove for a while, enjoying the companionship after their brutal week. The midday sun sparkled on the ever flowing water and warmed the scales on their backs, Steve with his smooth and rounded ones and Danny with his rugged and keeled ones. Fish darted uncertainly around them now that they had ceased talking.

With a glint in his eye, Danny scooped one unlucky fish out of the water with his claws. Steve stared incredulously at how perfectly one long claw had slid under the fish's gills like a stringer.

"I don't need to catch fish between my teeth because, unlike you, I can do this," he smirked.

Steve blinked and then a competitive look overcame his face. "Whoever catches the most fish for dinner tonight doesn't have to clean them."

All the fish around them scattered when they sensed the unmistakable air of a challenge.

"You're on."

* * *

 **Ah, yes. Our boys can never truly relax, right? That's why they must stay on the island for several chapters. And guys, this is nicknamed Flashback Island for a reason. If there's anything you'd like to see or think should've happened when Lori was around (have that one partially planned) or from season 1 when everyone was still unfamiliar with each other or from before that even or anything that you felt I've left unaddressed or thought was a red herring, speak up now. All ideas will be taken under serious consideration.**

 **No artwork currently. Possibly on Thursday some might be up, so just check on the art page sporadically, okay?**

 **Next Tuesday on "Dragons", Kono can't sleep and gets up to wander around the island, bumping into someone else that can't sleep.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	40. Fact 38

**We finally got snow. Oh yes we did. I take it back. I don't want it. Everything's muddy and slippery and cold and too bright with the sun glaring blindingly off its surface.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #38: An ohana of dragons is unbreakable, no matter how hard it is shaken.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

Kono dug the heels of her palms into her eyes and left her hands there in an effort to force herself to stop glaring at the tent wall. It was late. The others had all gone to sleep two, two and a half hours ago. Her? Oh no. No sleep for her. There had been no solid sleep for a week. The nightmares and memories of their case plagued her.

Having jumped awake from a light sleep at the sight of a dragon that had been butchered and quartered was enough to make her heart pound, but it had been covered in familiar burnt umber and gold scales. Sick to her stomach, the nightmare had sent her spinning back down the rabbit hole of the Breeders case.

* * *

" _Why?"_

 _It was a simple question. But there were no simple answers. Why would anyone do this? What would drive them to not only partake in an operation like this, but be second in command of it? How low to the ground did one have to be for this to even occur to them as a business opportunity? It was boggling._

 _Jeffrey shrugged. His cheek was blossoming with purple and green and his left eye was swollen from the right hook Steve had bestowed upon him on the ship. "Money's good."_

" _The money's good? That's all you have to say for yourself?" Kono's hands curled into fists. It had been decided that Steve was not allowed to interrogate Jeffrey due to the possibility he might not live through it. She had to keep it together or Chin, the only one to keep a level head in the situation thus far, would toss her out as well. "Those were people you had on your ships, and all you have to defend yourself is that the money was good?"_

 _Jeffrey held his silence._

 _Kono paced around the chair he was cuffed to, running her fingers through her hair to calm herself down. She sighed. Marilyn Walker was refusing to speak at all. The only word she had said was 'lawyer' and low and behold, one had shown up much to their irritation. Fortunately, they had enough evidence to keep her locked up and to make sure she stayed that way for the rest of her life._

 _Jeffrey, on the other hand, was talking. He had given them names of accomplices and the cities they operated in. But there was no how, no when, and no good enough why in his answers. They had evidence, but not closure._

 _She pulled a breath in through her teeth and switched to a different line of questioning. "Why keep them in dragon form? You could only hold ten on the_ Hathor's Joy _and fifteen on the_ Ostara's Charm _. They wouldn't have taken up as much space in human form."_

 _It was when Jeffrey looked her in the eye that she knew the how. How anyone could sink low enough to do this. He looked her in the eye and his were soulless. They were eyes so dark they might as well have been black. There was no remorse and no fear. She had seen more compassion in the Wyvern's fiery eyes._

" _The buyers got squeamish when they saw them as humans," Jeffrey answered. "They're easier to sell when they're just dragons."_

* * *

Kono shoved out of her sleeping bag and unzipped the tent flap. Casting a look over her shoulder at Chin, she slipped out into the barely there misting rain. It was cooler than it had been through the day and the night was inky with sparse patches of moonlight peeking through the hazy clouds.

Once she was far enough away from the campsite she clicked on her small flashlight. They had set up camp further into the trees so they were away from the water and would have a tactical advantage if some sap was unlucky enough to land on their island to try to get the drop on them. From the campsite, she had two options: down to the shore or up to the trees and cliffside.

She glanced at the waves through the tree trunks, but decided to head up instead of down.

The steady incline was harder to navigate than she expected. She chalked it up to her bone weariness from the week. Her very being was exhausted and yet every time she laid her head on her pillow it all came back to haunt her. In those quiet moments when she was alone in her own house and without Adam, images of her friends being muzzled, mutilated, raped, and brutally murdered flashed before her eyes. Many nights she had just driven around the island, stopping at secret beaches she knew the way to by heart and watching the ocean.

A figure flinched as the beam of her flashlight swept over it.

She froze. One of the only times she was unarmed and that was the time that she ran into something. That figured. She redirected the light back onto the figure leaning against the tree and sighed. Her taut shoulders relaxed.

"Danny?"

"Couldn't sleep either, huh, babe?"

Kono climbed the rest of the distance up the hill and looked down at her friend. He looked as exhausted as she felt, even more so. He scooched over to make room for her next to him against the tree that overlooked the rolling ocean from an elevated perch.

She folded down hesitantly, eyeing him. "You okay, brah?"

A hand fluttered out briefly before coming to rest on his knee again. "Define 'okay'."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she whispered. She had only asked because he was clad in jeans and wore no shirt on the account of his wings.

"If you keep staying up as late as me, you're going to shave ten years off your life," Danny said with a tiny grin quirked her way.

"I think ten years already got shaved off," she said. "You look like hell."

"Thank you. I'm flattered," he grunted. His fingers strayed up to his face where the bruising across his nose was beginning to fade. "At the risk of being on the receiving end of a love tap, I'm going to say that you're in the same boat as me concerning looks."

She laughed softly. "The four of us aren't going to win any beauty pageants, that's for sure."

His brows knitted together. "Now, I'm not sure if that's something I'd like to see or something I'd need bleach to get out of my head."

"What?"

"Steve in the swimsuit competition."

She laughed for real this time. Danny laughed along with her and she felt the demons of the case receding into the background. Just hearing his voice was a comfort after too many nightmares and endless circles of what-ifs.

The misting rain became a drizzle on them. Drops splattered her face, running across her bare shoulders and legs in cold rivulets. Initially a tank top and cotton shorts hadn't been too bad, now it was a bit chilly. She pulled her knees up to her chest and watched the rain ripple across the ocean in patterns like that of starlings.

All of the sudden the drops were no longer hitting her.

She tilted her head back, eyes alighting on the pale swirled nautilus pattern on the underside of one of Danny's wings. The membrane that stretched between the wing fingers appeared smooth like mother of pearl. Pausing for a moment, she finally swallowed back her apprehension and reached up to touch it. It wasn't as smooth as she first thought, but was warm under her fingertips and felt closer to the silky hide of a corn snake rather than mother of pearl.

"Your wings are so cool," she murmured.

The wing sheltering her from the rain trembled. "That's what the couple on the ship thought."

Her heart plummeted at her choice of words. Danny hadn't said much of what had happened while he was captive, which was in itself worrisome when Danny was a man of many words. She and Chin thought maybe he had opened up to Steve, but she had a feeling he was keeping it all dammed up behind his barriers. He could give his partner a run for his money in the emotionally closed off department when he wanted to.

"Danny, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"

"It's okay," he held one hand up and flicked his fingers out at the darkened horizon.

She snorted. "No, it's not okay. What Jeffrey and Marilyn did to you, how they treated you and Tamarin and the others, what they were planning on doing to you, none of it was okay and it's still not okay, not until all of those bastards are locked up for good."

"As much as I loathe to admit it, the FBI is doing a good job of rounding the schmucks up," he said.

Kono deflated somewhat.

The Dragons' Rights Division of the FBI had extended their hands out to Five-0 once news of the takedown had gotten around. Unlike their previous run ins with the FBI wanting to take over their cases, this particular division was willing to let Five-0 take point as long as they kept feeding them information so they could tie up the loose ends on the mainland.

Kono set her chin on her knees. "What about the kids that were sold to all those rich snobs? Jeffrey's not giving up names and Marilyn's hiding behind her lawyer."

Danny carded his fingers through his hair and exhaled heavily. Kono leaned in closer to him, resting her shoulder against his. His wing lowered and wrapped around her like a blanket while they sat there and stared out at the ocean.

The clouds drifted overhead. After a time, they eventually took the drizzle and the mist away with them as they moved on. The patches of moonlight grew stronger and larger until the brief glimpses of white light became a solid, glittering ribbon reflecting on the wrinkled face of the ocean. Stars blinked into existence in the black fabric of the sky once the clouds pulled away to the distant horizon. Night insects once again took up their songs now that the rain was gone, leaving only a fresh scent in its wake.

Kono admired the way the moonlight curled and glided on the crests of the waves washing ashore. It danced across the surface of the water in a way that the sun could not. It glinted like fish scales, here one second and then gone the next. Ever moving and breathing with the tide. She turned to look at Danny to see if he was watching it, too, but he wasn't.

Danny's head was inclined towards the sky. She did the same.

Silver specks along with the occasional red specks were scattered over their heads. The Milky Way looked like someone had dumped a glitter bottle on black paper, so many stars glowing in its heart that they blurred into swaths of white. A streak of one falling from its lofty height drew her eyes to it. She followed it until it burned out.

Danny cleared his throat quietly. "Thanks."

She tilted her head to look at him with her brows furrowed. "For what?"

"For being part of the one thing I can count on."

Kono smiled sadly and linked her arm with his. "Always, brah. Always."

* * *

 **Two characters I don't see interacting much in fics unless they're a couple in said fic.**

 **There is artwork this week! It's only a simple sketch as I've been busy with other art projects, because I got more than I bargained for with a few commissions. XD**

 **Next week on "Dragons", the team finds out an interesting quirk about Danny while they're eating breakfast.**

 **This Thursday, I'm posting a one shot. It's a Pacific Rim AU, mostly seen from Steve's perspective. If you like Pacific Rim, you may like it. If you like monsters and robots, you may like it. If you like some good old Steve and Danny banter, then you may definitely like it.**

 **Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! And a special thank you to the guest reviewers I can't reply to directly. You guys are awesome.**


	41. Fact 39

**Man, I can feel the posts breathing down my neck again.**

 **Shout out Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #39: Dragon spit has been long revered by certain cultures as having magical properties for good reason.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

"Chin Ho Kelly, what did you put in these eggs? Volcano sauce?" Danny coughed and one eye watered.

"Old family recipe," Chin propped his ankle on one knee and watched him with a placid grin.

"I don't know what's wrong with you, brah, they're not that hot," Kono forked another pile of scrambled eggs into her mouth.

The sun was above the horizon and Steve had made sure that they were all up. Not that any of them were still asleep. Chin was already dressed and had a fire going in the firepit while Danny and Kono had been meandering down the shoreline. At the moment, the four of them were in foldout camp chairs eating breakfast and the scrambled eggs Chin had made were almost too spicy to handle.

"Come on, Danny, I've seen you eat that noodle bowl from that Thai place by your house. That's way hotter than this," Kono continued.

"I guess fire resistant spit doesn't help with Chin's hot sauce, huh bud?" Steve smirked at him and scraped the last of his breakfast off of his plate.

"Two completely different kinds of fire, Steven, completely different," Danny forwent trying to eat the eggs and went for the bacon instead.

"Fire resistant spit?" Kono echoed.

"Is that true?" Chin quirked a brow his direction. "I've heard of dragon spit catching on fire, not being fire resistant."

"That old wives' tale about the Wyvern and the moonshine?" Danny asked. He shook his head. "As if moonshine wasn't flammable enough, add in some volatile chemicals and what'd you think would happen?"

"Tell them about the spit, Danny," Steve said.

Danny frowned at his partner as he leaned forward expectantly with his elbows on his knees with Chin and Kono following his lead. He then had three pairs of eyes staring at him. What a bunch of five year olds.

"Don't ask me," he sat back with a wave of his hand at himself. He swept his hand out at Steve. "Ask him."

"Wait, why do you know this?" Kono swiveled towards him.

"Yes, Steven, why do you know this?" Danny tilted his head to the side. "You see, I was not in my right mind when all of this happened."

"He sounded like the adults from a Charlie Brown cartoon."

"Is that all you ever hear from me? Wa wawawa wa?"

"You were so stuffed up your usual onslaught was mangled beyond recognition."

"That is not true, Mr. Pants-on-fire."

"Really? Liar, liar, pants on fire?"

"I'm the father of a ten year old, what'd you expect?"

"Okay, okay!" Kono held up her hands in a halting gesture at the both of them. "Will one of you just tell us the story?"

"Since Daniel is being difficult about it, I'll tell it," Steve started. "Over a year ago, Danny took a sick day off…."

* * *

 _2011…._

He could count on one hand the days that Danny had missed work. The first day was when he had started puking lava and Steve had taken him back to his house to get over it. The second was when Grace had the flu only a week after that. The third was after he had been poisoned with sarin and nearly died.

Today would be the fourth day he hadn't come into work since they had started working together. A year and a half with only four days missed wasn't too bad. Steve was actually glad Danny had told him he was staying home. He was getting ready to tell him to not come in with the way he had been hacking the day before.

Germs didn't scare him. He didn't necessarily want to get sick, but if he was going to catch whatever Danny had it was already too late. Sharing a car and working in the same offices would make sure that whoever was doomed to catch it was going to catch it. That went double for Steve since he was currently letting Danny crash at his place until he sorted out an apartment for himself.

Lori had suggested taking him some type of herbal tea that soothed the throat and Kono had added that a hot shower or bath with a few drops of eucalyptus oil would help open his airways. It had taken a while to find both of them at the store, but he found them along with some food, juice for Danny, and beer for himself.

When he opened his front door and walked into his house, he was a bit put off to find that his coffee table and part of the floor around it had become overrun by wadded up tissues.

"Danny, you've got a cold, not broken legs. You could've thrown those in the trash," he said as he made his way to the kitchen. He set the plastic bags on the counter and then returned to his living room.

Danny was lying on the couch with his back propped up with pillows. He breathed shallowly through his mouth and made an awful sounding sucking snort which sent him coughing again. Steve watched him partially with pity and partially with disgust as he coughed into a tissue and tried to blow his nose out into it, too.

"The girls sent you some stuff to try," he said. "Lori said drink some Throat Coat for the cough and Kono said to take a hot shower with eucalyptus oil so you can breathe again. You want some soup for dinner?"

"Can'd tas'e anyding," Danny complained. "Jus' boogers."

Steve grimaced. "Did you eat anything today besides your own snot?"

"Wha' are you? My mom?" Danny grumbled at him. He grabbed another tissue as his coughing resurfaced.

"Well, you're living under my roof right now," Steve grinned at the glare he received.

"Yes, I ate dat lef'ober lo mien," he choked and blew his nose noisily into the tissue, softly cursing in his own disgust. "You 'appy?"

"Happy would be a stretch," Steve's brows furrowed as he glimpsed a bottle hiding out amongst the tsunami of white tissues. He pinched the cap and lifted it up. "Did you drink all of this today?"

"No' working," Danny sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the couch.

"You realize this has alcohol in it, right?" Steve asked, holding up the NyQuil.

"You realize I'm a dragon? You din hab anyding else in your badroom, anyway," Danny waved a hand towards the stairs.

"That's true, so I guess you're just insufferable when you're sick, no alcohol required," Steve rubbed his forehead. His partner was a different kind of handful when he was sick. He kicked a stray tissue with the toe of his boot back over with the others. "Should probably burn this disaster you've made."

Danny's head bobbed from side to side. "Hab to wait 'dil tomorrow if you wanna burn dem."

"Why?"

Danny blew his nose again and held his hand out to him. "Ligh'er."

"Why do you want my lighter?"

"Jus' gib it to me."

Steve pulled the lighter out of one of the many pockets on his cargo pants and handed it over. Burnt umber scales gloved Danny's hand as he held up his most recently used tissue and touched the flame of the lighter to it. Wispy tongues of fire crawled over the surface, blackening the fringes until it reached the snot within where it promptly gave one last flicker and went out.

"Fireproof snot?" Steve questioned.

"Da mucus of all fire breaders is like dat," Danny crumpled the tissue firmly in his fist to make sure it wasn't smoldering before dropping it in amongst the rest. "Keeps us from burning our mouds and noses."

Steve smirked. That was neat. It seemed reasonable that the sensitive mucus membranes would be in danger of getting torched with the heat and flames and smoke fire breathers could put off, so being fire resistant was a protection.

"Could you spit on something and then throw it in a fire? Would your saliva protect against that?" he asked.

"Wha' are you planning? Dis sounds like da beginning of a bad McGarrett plan," Danny eyed him. He brought his arm up to his face and coughed into the crook of his elbow.

Steve let it go for now and got up to go find another box of Kleenex and heat up the soup he had brought home. Even if Danny did answer him, it was like trying to decipher a cryptic code.

* * *

 _Present_ _…._

"I remember that!" Kono leaned out of her camp chair and smacked Danny across the bicep. "I caught that crud a few days after you did!"

Danny rubbed his arm. "And you kicked it a lot faster than I did, if I remember correctly."

"Auntie's old secret cure for chest colds," Chin nodded. "Never met a cold it couldn't break."

"Well, what's in it? Some crazy Hawaiian juju that no one thought to share with the guy who was drowning in his own boogers for three days?" Danny's hands leapt out at Chin in a pleading gesture.

"It's a secret," he said.

"Meaning, Auntie never told us, so we have no clue and I'm not sure we want to know," Kono added in a stage whisper.

Chin nodded again.

Danny turned towards Steve. "And you could understand me perfectly fine, you Neanderthal, you made me sound worse than I actually was."

"Brah, it was pretty bad," Kono said. "Remember? We stopped by to bring you lunch the next day?"

Danny's eyes widened and he pointed a finger at Chin. "Whatever you brought me had this inferno sauce on it, didn't it? Because for about five minutes I could breathe, but my face was numb because it was so hot."

"This is _my_ secret for curing chest colds," Chin said.

"You, my friend, are a masochist."

Steve stood up from his chair. He rubbed his hands together like a maniacal villain which worried Danny somewhat. Whatever gave a reserve Navy SEAL this much glee was not good for any mortal in the vicinity, one of which he happened to be.

"I have plans for today."

Danny stood up and pressed his palms together, moving his hands with each question. "Do these plans involve grenades, guns, tasers, cargo pants, explosives of any kind, or Devil's Tongue?"

"No, no, no, yes, no, and definitely no," Steve's hand drifted to his forehead as did Chin's and Danny's. The hangover the morning after that escapade had been a not so gentle reminder to tread lightly with Devil's Tongue. Steve scrubbed a hand over his stubble and the tired circles under his eyes. "Come on, guys, this will be fun."

"Fun, he says," Danny rubbed his own dark eyes and then slid his fingers through his hair that was a bit wild without gel in it. "Alright, Super SEAL, what do you have planned?"

The smile that split Steve's face was an immediate warning sign that they should have been afraid. "Capture the flag."

* * *

 **Hehehe...alternate chapter title was Burning Boogers because I'm actually five years old.**

 **Sorry, no art this week. Maybe next week there might be some. I've been working on another Five-0 project I hope to get done eventually, so the sketching has been hither-tither at best.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", a game of capture the flag gets a little out of hand and Danny wonders if Steve is actively trying to kill him.**

 **Okay, reviewers. I'm writing an A-Z chapter of sorts where they're all tidbits based on one word prompts, such as A is for Apex and I is for Icicle. If you feel so inclined to help, I could use words in the J-Z range. Except M. I already have that one written.**

 **Thank you guys for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	42. Fact 40

**Ah, capture the flag. Reminds me of flying through a bunch of wild raspberry, strawberry, and rose bushes in the mountains with my friends trying to keep them from getting my flag. Good times. Painful, but good.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #40: Never judge a dragon's ability to navigate certain terrains based on their type.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

Danny wanted to win. Needed to win. Had an intense urge to win.

The game had started off normal enough, save for the fact that the boundaries of Steve's rendition of capture the flag were far larger than anything Danny had played with as a teenager. Playing in the park or in his uncle's orchard in Maine had not prepared him to play against a reserve Navy SEAL in a ridiculously large section of the jungle.

There had been rules when he played with his brother and sisters and cousins as a teenager. The flag had to be visible. It didn't necessarily have to be easy to get to, but it couldn't be buried in a bunch of reeds or branches. Designated benches or rocks or trees were prisons for the tagged people and a person from the prisoners' team could free only one at a time. Occasionally there was a rule about tackling, but only when the younger kids were playing, otherwise intruders could be dealt with in any number of ways.

Steve played by barely any of those rules. This was their third game of the day and Danny still had no clue where Steve was hiding his flag, there were no prisons, and he had been tackled once by Kono and twice by Steve.

"We need a new strategy," Chin said once they had hidden their flag.

"I never remember capture the flag being such a strategy based game. I think Steve is enjoying himself a little too much, huh?" Danny said.

"I don't think he's ever really played it before," Chin said.

The pair of them stopped in what was roughly the middle of their side of the playing field.

"Well, he's too good at it for someone that's never played. Who's never played capture the flag before? He had to have played it at least once in high school for PE or something," Danny's claws flicked out and Chin shrugged.

They had started out in human form, with Steve and Chin against Danny and Kono. Coated almost completely in mud and moving like a ninja, Steve had secured their flag only ten minutes into the game.

The second round, they switched up the teams so that Kono was with Steve and Chin with Danny. Steve had then sprung one on them by dropping out of the canopy in dragon form and nearly squashing Danny. After that point, the three of them were in dragon form and Chin had to stealthily avoid getting creamed by an overly zealous tackle.

Danny folded his wings closer to his body while they waited for the whistle that would start the game. "Steve probably has their flag up in a tree somewhere, right?"

"You think?" Chin raised a brow at him.

"What a gorilla," he shook his head. "Okay, since he's turned this into a strategy game instead of a speed game, we need to figure out how we can get their flag while not letting them get ours."

"I don't think we'll have to worry about them getting our flag this time," Chin grinned. "So, we won't have to leave a guard on this side."

"This was a lot easier when we had seven and eight people to a team," he said.

Usually it had been one of his older cousins, Matty, his two sisters, two or three younger cousins, and then himself. With that amount of people, they had enough to leave two to guard their territory and their jail, have one free others from the opposing team's jail, and allow for there to be up to four of them searching for the flag on enemy turf. Two-man teams were not ideal.

"We always played with ten people to a team and three flags on each side," Chin said.

Danny's brows went up. "You guys were certifiable."

A shrill whistle tore through the jungle.

Danny stood up. "You think that they'll both head this way or leave one to guard the flag?"

"Steve had me stay in the general vicinity of the flag earlier," Chin said. He wiped the sweat off his brow and then smiled broadly. "You know what those two are doing wrong?"

"Other than playing with the bare minimum rules?"

"No. They're playing like they can't shift."

* * *

Once. Once in PE his freshman year of high school, he had played capture the flag. That was the one and only time. It seemed like a simple enough game and felt like the right option to see how stealthy his team was in the jungle and what areas they needed to work on.

Danny had complained about rules or something, but in his mind there was only one goal: capture the other team's flag and make it back to safety without getting caught.

Kono was crossing enemy lines to search for their flag while he hung back to keep an eye on their side. Neither Kono nor Danny blended into the green foliage very well, unlike him. His teals and dark blues along with a generous splattering of mud concealed him amongst the trees.

He adjusted his grip and waited.

Early on in the game he had learned that Kono and Danny were not stealthy in their dragon forms. Oh sure, they were quiet to the untrained ear, but it had been pounded into him what the sounds of an approaching dragon were. Never mind that Kono's amber scales flickered in the sunlight and Danny's pale underwings were starkly visible in the dense growth of the jungle.

Chin would be the most obvious one to send in. He was small, agile, and if Danny thought Steve was a ninja, then Chin was a ghost. Even in dragon form with heightened hearing he had a hard time picking up his footfalls.

Which is exactly how he knew that it was not Chin approaching. The steps were soft, but he could hear the shaking of fronds brushing over scales and the snap of a stick.

He peeled his eyes open and scanned his surroundings. There was a flash of burnt umber and cinnamon through a patch of sunlight that vanished as soon as it appeared. He frowned when he couldn't spot him again.

Patience.

Soon enough, another quiet chorus of rustling vegetation drew his attention to a different section of jungle. There, amongst the tightly woven prop roots of an old banyan tree, he could make out Danny standing stock still with his nose to the air.

Steve narrowed his eyes as Danny made a cautious trek towards the tree the flag was perched in. He hadn't thought his sense of smell would be keen enough to pick up either his or the flag's scent. All that smoke filtering out through his nose? He would have thought it would have reduced his olfactory sense.

Steady as a gecko, he slunk along the thick branch he was on. Being a big crossbreed proved to be a bit of a hindrance when climbing in the trees. Most limbs wouldn't hold his weight, a fact made painfully obvious when the one he was one gave a creaking groan.

He froze. Danny's head jerked around, his ridge of neck scales standing upright in a spiky display. Steve felt like a nature documentarian watching a rare animal whose ways were largely unknown. He had originally guessed that his partner would move like a bear, what with all those heavy scales and built forelegs and massive claws and his wings. Instead, he moved like a cat with a slow and purposeful stride, his footfalls quiet on the soft ground.

Until he was running. Then he totally moved like a bear.

Steve dropped out of the tree at the burst of speed from his partner. He ran at him, planning on tackling him to the ground for a third time that day. Danny saw him coming and darted around the banyan tree the flag was in. He sent up a spray of leaf litter and dirt as he bolted back towards his territory where he would be safe. Hypothetically safe.

Heart pounding, adrenaline racing, excitement peaking, Steve kept on his tail. He was going to be three for three today, only his second time ever playing capture the flag and he was going to be undefeated.

Even though he had long legs and was trained and used to running in the jungle in dragon form, Danny stayed ahead of him. For a short powerhouse, he was fast. His feet trampled down the undergrowth and his wings swiveled and flattened in quick turns to let him pass between trunks that Steve figured were too close together for him to get through with his broad shoulders.

So intent on the chase, he hadn't even noticed that they were no longer headed towards Danny and Chin's turf and had doubled back around. He only noticed when he lost sight of his partner completely by the banyan trees that were present on his and Kono's territory, not the other side.

Huffing and sucking air greedily in through both mouth and nose, he cocked his head to the side and listened. One second he had been right behind him, his laser focus zoomed in on Danny's tail and wings, and the next, poof! His partner vanished into thin air.

Frustrated that he had lost his quarry, he flicked his tongue out. Everyone had cried foul on him when he had done that the first time. It didn't really matter, though. The scent receptors on his tongue were relatively weak compared to those of a pure blooded Arboreal or Serpent. It had to be a really strong scent for him to pick it up.

And he could scent Danny nearby.

"Bud, we're playing capture the flag, not hide and seek," he called out, hoping to bait his partner into replying. "I should write you up as an environmental hazard with how many plants you destroyed running away from me."

He looked up and his jaw dropped.

The crevice of the banyan tree was bare. The neon green flag he had so carefully and precisely tucked in there was gone. He snorted. Danny had been the distraction.

"Can't believe you fell for that, huh?"

Steve snapped his head over to the branches where a human Danny leapt off and hit the ground in full dragon form. Snarling, he tore off after him. There had only been one set of steps approaching, he was sure of it. The flag had been deep into their territory, too deep for Chin to have reached it and then retreated in the amount of time he had been chasing Danny. There was no sprig of neon green with his partner so it had to have been Chin. He just didn't know how.

He heard the whistle of Chin returning safely to his side with the flag, signaling for the game to end.

He kept right on running even when Danny started to slow. His partner darted forward again, hollering and yelping when Steve refused to cease chasing him.

"Hey, whoa, game over, you Neanderthal, game over!"

Steve wove in and out of the trees after Danny. They stampeded by Kono and Chin where the territories met. Leaping and bounding, jumping and ducking, he dodged low branches and vaulted fallen ones. He was in full pursue and subdue mode. It was a good, if sketchy, way to channel his anger and exhaustion and frustration, funneling it all into energy that propelled him through the jungle.

Unfortunately, his one-track mind failed to realize his target had halted.

"Steve, stop!"

The shout filtered through into his brain and he glanced at where Danny was standing. His eyes widened. He tried to apply his brakes, but couldn't fight the momentum he had going. He rammed into his partner's backside and sent them both over the cliff.

Steve's gliding wings shot out, catching the air and slowing his descent. Beside him Danny awkwardly flapped his wings before steadying them enough to glide.

He hit the water like a duck while Danny came in like a duck on fire. The water was shallow here. Deeper than the cove they had been messing around in yesterday, but Steve could touch the bottom with his back feet. Danny flailed and spluttered out a mouthful of water.

"Danny, Danny, easy man, easy!" Steve shielded his face from the spray of water.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Danny spat. He doggy paddled with his wings splayed out on either side of him like big brown leaves floating on the surface. "Chin blew the whistle. Game over. We won that round. But no, you had to keep chasing me like a rabid animal and send both of us over a cliff!"

"I'm sorry, okay?" he cruised through the waves after his partner as he paddled back towards shore, leaving a muddy trail in his wake. "I got a little excited."

"You got a little excited? What are you? A dog that finally got the chance to chase the squirrel that he barks at everyday through the window?" Danny panted and glared at him. His wings hung loosely at his sides, dragging through the surf and sand as he trudged onto the beach.

Steve's tail drooped. He had messed up. Gotten too carried away. The way his partner limped away from him made him wonder if his knee or bruised ankle was acting up. They both had been sprinting through trees and over logs, taking sharp turns in the undergrowth. And here he had forced him to keep running. In hindsight, he supposed Danny could've turned around and smacked him with a blow equal to a small car colliding with him, but he hadn't.

"Hey," he trotted to catch up to him. "I'm sorry. I wanted this to be a relaxing thing."

Danny snorted. "With you, nothing's ever relaxing. As soon as we sit down to watch a game, something happens and we get called in. We go hiking and manage to find a body and you break your arm. We go drinking and just so happen to get caught in the middle of a gas station robbery."

"That wasn't my fault," he protested.

"I beg to differ! You, in all your drunken glory, decided that you were going to apprehend the robber while you were barely able to stand on your own two feet," Danny's claws flipped out and cut through the air, one lashing out to poke Steve in the chest.

"Okay, that one was my fault," he admitted with a small nod.

Danny's pale eyes locked onto him and they stood silently for a moment. Steve couldn't help himself from staring at the bruising present on his snout. It had faded to ugly yellows and browns, no longer showing the bright purples and greens it had been a few days ago. The scabs may have mostly healed, but the dark circles around his eyes were still there. He just looked tired.

Steve sighed. "How about we all just chill this afternoon. No games or team building or whatever, just chilling."

Danny's eyes narrowed. "You don't exactly 'chill', despite you always touting that as the supreme way of island life."

Steve started walking again, keeping a companionable distance from his partner. "I know."

"Wait, did you just agree with me? Stop the presses! Someone get me a pen and paper, this day needs written down," Danny said.

He grinned slightly. "I'm just saying that, maybe, I don't know exactly how to relax."

"And the understatement of the year goes to you, Steven J. McGarrett."

"I'm trying to have a heartfelt admission to you here."

"Sorry, please continue," Danny's eyes twinkled and a smile tugged at his mouth.

"You're a pain sometimes, you know that, right?" he said and returned the smile. It waned as he continued, "I have a hard time winding down. I have to be physically exerting myself or the past few years cycle through my head. My dad's murder, my mom still being alive, Wo Fat escaping, Malia getting killed, you getting kidnapped, it's all always there. It never quits."

"I hate to break it to you, but you're not the only one that goes in circles every night looking for answers," Danny said quietly. Steve held his tongue and waited to see if he would go on, which he did in a resigned tone, "It's hard, you know? I go to bed every night and wonder if I had done something different would Rachel still be around? Would I get to see my daughter every day rather than every other weekend? Or what if when Peterson was here I had really killed Stan? Or what if we didn't stop him and I never saw my baby again? Sometimes I go back to my partner Grace, wondering if we had just called for backup or at least told someone where we were if she'd still be alive."

"You can't do that to yourself, man," Steve chided gently.

"Says you, the one who does the same thing," Danny's head shook slowly.

"It sounds like we both suck at relaxing."

"You've now got two understatements of the year. Want to try for a third?"

"I think I'd rather try for a nap."

"You don't nap. I'm not even sure you sleep. I think you just plug into a wall socket for a few hours and recharge."

"Okay. I'm actually going to bask."

"Bask?"

"Yeah, soak up some sun."

"I know what it means. What are you, a lizard?"

"Dragon."

"Point taken."

"Come on, Danno, it doesn't even require you to move."

Danny hummed lowly.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Just trying to figure out how exactly you're going to turn basking into a strenuous activity."

Steve let it go with a good natured huff.

They walked in a calm silence back towards their section of beach and the campsite. Danny bumped into him a few times, but they were friendly bumps. Brotherly bumps. Steve craved that brotherly connection and was glad that his boneheaded self hadn't ruined it for now. It was like he couldn't stop when he started doing something, no matter how much he knew it was going to upset Danny or the team. Honestly, he was surprised that they had stuck with him this long and he loved them all the more for –

Suddenly he was flying sideways into the water from an abrupt body check.

Spitting water, he looked up and narrowed his eyes at the devious smirk Danny cracked at him before beating a hasty retreat. Oh yeah, the love was definitely brotherly.

* * *

 **Because nothing is ever really simple with Steve, right? And there is artwork, so check that out! Comment if you don't have the link and would like it. :)**

 **Next Tuesday on "Dragons", it gets creepy crawly when the team starts discussing bugs and Danny recalls a rather painful encounter.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! I could still use words suggestions for J-Z, except for M, P, S, and X. But feel free to suggest any word for the alphabet tidbit chapter I'm working on!**


	43. Fact 41

**This one has a guest appearance of character we don't see often in fics.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #41: Nature has a way of keeping balanced.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

Steve snorted a laugh at the loud slap of Danny swatting another mosquito on his arm. "A man in my unit was from New Orleans and used to tell us that the mosquitoes were so big they might as well have been the state bird."

"Nice. I'm glad Hawaii's mosquitoes don't get that big," Kono said.

"I don't understand why people would keep insects as pets," Danny said and scratched at him arm. "They're called creepy crawlies and pests for a reason, but no, let's keep them inside our houses. Grace went over to her friend's house for a slumber party and guess what kind of pet she had?"

"Since we're on the topic of insects, I'm going to say it was cockroaches," Kono said.

A visible shudder went through Danny and Steve grinned. "Don't tell me that you're scared of cockroaches?"

"You'd hold a grudge against them, too, if you woke up in the middle of the night with one scurrying across your face," Danny said.

The four of them all instinctively swiped at their faces at the thought.

Their lazy afternoon had put them back in better spirits. Steve had cooked the fish he and Chin had caught that afternoon and they were now sitting around a fire as the last of the sunlight bled out of the horizon. A proud and relieved feeling loosened the clenched fist in Steve's chest as he listened to the team talk and laugh, even if they were talking about bugs at the moment.

"But no," Danny shook his head. "Thankfully, Lana did not own cockroaches. She had several containers with praying mantises in them. Grace, sweet, naïve child that she is, wanted one so bad afterwards, but I know Rachel wouldn't allow an insect in the house and I did not want to wake up with some freakishly large pincers in my face after someone forgot to put the lid back on a tank. So no bugs in the house."

"One of our cousins keeps freshwater shrimp in a ten gallon tank," Chin said.

"Yeah, those are kind of like bugs, but they can't escape," Kono added. "I'm sure our cousin could help Grace set up some kind of habitat thing for the…wait, does he have wild cherries or _Opae_ _Kala'ole_?"

Chin shrugged.

"What is the thrill of keeping what are basically sea roaches? Or bugs in general? Please, someone explain it to me, because I don't understand," Danny's hands waved out at the cousins.

"You don't appreciate the exotic things in life, bud," Steve teased.

"Okay, what's the most exotic pet you ever owned?" Danny leaned back in his camp chair with a smug grin.

Steve rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "A goldfish?"

"See, there we go. That's about as exotic as a banana," Danny said.

"A banana?"

"As exotic as a banana in South America where they have huge farms growing them, how's that?" Danny said.

"Oh," Chin's face pinched. "Now there's an exotic insect."

"What?" Steve asked.

Chin caught Danny's eye. "You ever deal with any flights coming in from South America?"

Danny ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. "Oh yeah. Working with HPD. I remember one time very vividly."

"Is this the thing that happened to you while you were at HPD that you said I completely missed you saying?" Steve asked.

"One of the things," he confirmed.

"Well?" Steve pressed.

Danny perked a brow at him.

"I'm using my one question for the day."

"You see how he's started cheating to just get an answer to anything?" Danny pointed at him and the cousins chuckled. He swept his hands wide. "Okay, working as a cop, you get to come into contact with a lot of exotic things…."

* * *

 _2010…._

Things typically went one way for Danny: they started off normal and fine before progressing into a disaster. His marriage, for example. Beautiful wedding, great kid, all of it slid into a divorce. His job, having collected over eighty homicides under his belt from the early 2000s up until he pulled up stakes and moved to a pineapple infested hellhole, was heading towards what he could tell was a slippery slope.

Oh sure, the guys at HPD were professional for the most part. Pineapple appeared on his desk quite often. Canned, fresh, candied, but worst of all was the ham and pineapple pizza. It was sacrilegious to a guy from New Jersey. Sunscreen, that was on his desk almost every morning. They all stared at him like they'd never seen a white guy before, which was ridiculous because the number of white tourists on the island was too large to miss. _Haole_ , they called him that a lot. He'd deduced that it probably meant something along the lines of 'pale schmuck in over his head'.

Fortunately for him, he'd been paired with Meka Hanamoa. The guy was a saint. He didn't rib him like the others and had only left a tube of sunscreen on his desk once as a welcome to HPD kind of thing. Taking him under his wing, he slowly but surely was teaching him the ins and outs of Hawaii without making him feel like a rookie.

"Everything that comes into Hawaii is strictly monitored," Meka was saying. He waved a hand at all the greenery as they drove by it. "Anything new could destroy native island species."

Danny chortled. "That explains why my dog got quarantined and I had to say my goodbyes to him in a cold metal cage."

"I'm sorry, Danny," Meka said. It was an honest and pure sentiment, yet another thing he appreciated about his partner. "That sucks big time."

He nodded. Clearing his throat, he asked, "So, everything is strictly monitored?"

"Oh yeah, no plants or animals can be brought in unless they're permitted for research or the zoo or the like, or they're on the approved list and have been properly quarantined," Meka continued. "We don't need another rat or snake problem on the island."

"Snake problem?" he furrowed his brows. "I guess I never thought about Hawaii having snakes. Or not having snakes. I about had a heart attack trying to learn all of the animals that are illegal to own here. Back home, it was easy to remember, you know? No lions, tigers, or bears."

"Oh my."

"Shut up. It was simpler, okay? No undomesticated dogs, no undomesticated cats, no crocodiles or alligators, no monkeys, nothing venomous, no ridiculous rodent species, and definitely no bears. Simple at that. If you could see it in the zoo then you could not own it."

"Same laws here, brah, why're you making it a big deal?" Meka glanced over at him with a grin.

Danny shifted in the passenger seat and held his hands up to explain. "Oh no, you guys on this floating rock can't just ban the normal stuff that sane people shouldn't want to own anyway, no, you guys go above and beyond. No snakes, no geckos, no hermit crabs, no parakeets, no ferrets, no hamsters. You do realize that hamsters are the staple of childhood pets on the mainland, right?"

"You don't really strike me as a pet rodent kind of guy," Meka said.

"No, no way. I've dealt with too many bodies that have been scavenged by rats and squirrels to allow one to reside in my house. But my daughter Grace, she had to give up her hamster when her mother dragged her out here."

"Sorry, it sounds like you have tough luck with animals."

"Yeah," he sighed and rubbed his forehead as he recalled the heartbroken expression of Grace when she had learned that her pet couldn't move with her. "It was this little brown and white hamster named Pigeon. Nicest rodent I'd ever met. He was fine with just sitting in Grace's hands, never once bit or even nibbled her. Sometimes she'd build a Lego fort and put him inside it and leave seeds tucked away in places for him to find."

"A hamster called Pigeon. I like that," Meka said. He directed the car into a parking spot outside of the airport and threw it into park. "You know, she could get a rabbit. One of my nieces raises show rabbits and they're usually pretty friendly."

Danny shut the car door and followed his partner towards the entrance. "I like rabbits and I'm sure Grace would love one, but after the divorce and after moving here, I don't have the money to get her the rabbit and the food and the cage, you know?"

"I get it," Meka nodded in understanding. "You could always get her a fluffy stuffed bunny. Cheaper, easier to care for, lives much longer."

Danny chuckled. "I like the way you think."

This particular outing was initiated by an anonymous tip that had come into HPD that morning about a flight coming in from Rio, Brazil and the possibility that someone onboard was transporting illegal goods. The tip was vague about whether the 'goods' were drugs or jewels or something else. Due to the vagueness, it was just Danny and Meka along with airport security doing a check on the passengers, cargo, and the plane itself. No need to mount a full scale police intervention unless it turned out to be a legitimate tip.

As per their instruction, the airport was holding the plane at the gate and keeping everyone onboard, claiming it was mechanical issues. Danny was sure he'd heard that one enough times while flying that no one would think twice about it. They only let everyone off once they were there and ready to start searching.

The majority of the passengers were tired and irritated, others were nervous with the presence of both the police and security, and still others were bored to death. While TSA went through the luggage, Danny and Meka boarded the plane to do a sweep.

"You ever been to South America?" Meka asked as he walked down the aisle further ahead of Danny and examined the overhead compartments on the right of the plane as he went.

"Farthest south I've ever been was when I went to DC with the family to go to the Smithsonian," he said, moving methodically down the compartments on the left. "They had just added to the dragon part of the Natural History Museum and all of us kids were so excited to go see it that Pop threatened to let us walk the rest of the way if we kept asking 'are we there yet'."

"I hear that the Bishop Museum is planning on building an entire hall dedicated to dragons," Meka said. "I think I'm going to take Billy when it's done. He's in that stage where dragons are awesome."

"I don't think Grace has grown out of that stage yet," Danny said. He frowned at a blue carry-on that had been left behind. "Got a bag."

Meka pivoted to stand by his side. "Your call, brah. Think it's safe or should we alert TSA and let them handle it?"

He looked at the row of seats directly under the bag. In flight snack wrappers littered the floor, a gummy candy wrapper was mixed in with them, and a few stray crayons were nearly hidden between the thin seat cushions. Danny reached into the compartment and gently moved the bag sideways.

"Unless there's a small transforming killer robot in here, I think we're fine," he pointed at the multiple Transformers stickers that were now visible. "Some haggard parents probably forgot to grab it when they got shuffled off the plane."

Danny snapped on a pair of latex gloves anyway and slowly unzipped it. When nothing started ticking, he meticulously went through the contents. Coloring book, the rest of the crayons, Nintendo DS, more packages of gummy candy, and a bag of…something white.

"Hey, what do you make of this?" he pulled the clear plastic bag out and held it up for Meka to see. It wasn't powder, but it was white with black dots all in it and cut into small squares.

Meka furrowed his brows and pinched one of the squares lightly. It was almost gelatinous. He then grinned. "I bet it's dragon fruit candy."

"Dragon fruit, huh?" Danny dropped the plastic bag back into the backpack and set it on one of the seats. "Those are the crazy looking pink fruits at the store, right?"

Meka opened his mouth and then his eyes went wide. He was looking past his shoulder. Danny turned sharply, putting as much distance as he could between whatever had caught his partner's eye and himself. His brows went up when he saw it.

A shiny, dark bug scuttled out of the crack between the wall and the compartment. He immediately thought black wasp or hornet even though the body build was off for any stinging bug he'd seen in New Jersey or even here for that matter. It had swept back antennae coming off its triangular face with two sets of narrow wings on either side and mean looking foreleg pincers. Another one like it followed suit out of the crack. And then another. And another.

Danny was already moving towards the front of the plane when Meka made a comment about them getting off and letting TSA deal with the insects. Two whole rows away he heard the hum of the bugs as they lifted off and proceeded to follow them. He stepped a little quicker.

Meka planted his hand on his back and physically propelled him forward.

"Go, go, go!"

Not used to such a reaction from his normally calm partner, he broke into a jog up the gangway all the while wondering if Meka was allergic to wasp stings. Getting stung wasn't pleasant, but he had stopped running from wasps and bees and hornets years ago once he figured out how to do a partial shift so only small patches of scales showed up. Now he felt like they were two ten year olds running away from a hive they had disturbed.

Meka shut the door behind them at the gate and puffed out a breath of relief. An airport employee and a few TSA agents looked at them oddly.

"What? Bugs aren't in your repertoire of things you know how to deal with?" Danny questioned with a small grin. He waved a hand back at the door. "I would think that Hawaii's finest would know how to handle a wasp."

"Hey, those _loko 'ino pu'u_ are not funny, brah," Meka gave him the stink eye while waving a TSA agent over.

Danny was about to say that his reaction was a bit funny when he felt it. A noticeable weight and tickle on his arm. Expecting to see one of the yellowjacket sized bugs, his mouth went dry and his heart fluttered when he lifted up his arm to swat it away. The next two seconds went in slow motion.

It was a monster of a bug. Nearly three inches from head to butt, it was like the abhorrent mutant child of a praying mantis and a wasp. While it had the triangular face like the others, its forehead arched up into a crest with curled antennae framing it. Huge multifaceted eyes with pinprick black dots eyed him malevolently as it extended its beefy pincers and grabbed onto his arm. It flexed its thick abdomen, making the white iridescent markings on its indigo exoskeleton glint and shine.

The moment its stinger pierced his skin he remembered why everyone ran from wasps.

He yelped and backhanded it. Meka and the TSA agent he was speaking with both looked at him and then up at the angrily humming insect buzzing around.

While the area around him dissolved into a cacophony of people trying to kill the bug, Danny began to sweat. He gripped his forearm above where he'd been stung, dismayed to see that the site was already red and swollen. His stomach did a flip as an electric shot skittered through his veins, cramping the muscles up his arm and into his shoulder with a burning sensation accompanied by pins and needles on steroids.

"Come on, brah, we'll let TSA deal with them."

Another jolt went up his arm and shook his breathing. "What the hell are those?"

"Gehenna Wasps," Meka said sourly. He put his arm around Danny's shoulders and helped him up, directing him through the busy airport. "They occasionally hitch a ride on planes coming in from around the Amazon Rainforest."

"Oh god, this hurts," Danny hissed. Sweat dripped down his face and between his shoulder blades and heat radiated around the sting, pulsating and throbbing before igniting into an electric sensation that reminded him of when he'd been tasered.

Meka opened the passenger door for him and darted around to the driver's side while he climbed in. "I guess when I said you had bad luck with animals I wasn't kidding."

Danny shook his head. Immediately he wished he hadn't as the everything liquidized into a sloshing slurry. He clamped his eyes shut and leaned his head against the headrest, breathing heavily through his nose.

"You allergic to any bug stings?"

"No," he ground out through clenched teeth. The muscles in his arm contracted again with another vicious tingle.

"Good," Meka started the engine and pulled away. "Of course, you had to go and get stung by a soldier Gehenna Wasp. Couldn't get stung by a worker, could you _haole_?"

"Sorry," Danny tilted his head to the side just enough so he could glare at his partner. "Next time I'll be sure to check the job title of the bug before it stings me."

Meka snorted a tiny laugh. "You know what to do for a sting?"

"Ice and Benadryl," he answered. His stomach protested the turn out of the airport parking lot and he swallowed thickly.

"Want me to drop you off at your place?" Meka asked.

"No, I can handle it," he said.

"You sure?"

Danny cocked a brow at him. In his experience, stings only hurt for a while and then subsided to simply itching. With him not being allergic, he didn't see the need to call it quits for the day and return to his crappy apartment. Though, as sweat continued to pour down him and his arm continued to alternate between burning and tingling and spasming, he thought Meka might be onto something.

"Don't tell me this isn't like a normal wasp sting," he said, but he already knew. It hurt way too much to be normal.

Meka glanced at him sympathetically. "I hate to break it to you, but–"

"No," Danny interrupted. Or pleaded. He was sure it might have been the latter.

"–it's going to only get worse over the next five hours."

Silence. Angry, pained, disbelieving silence.

"So, you still want me to take you home?"

* * *

 _Present…._

"And that was the first time that I had been bit or stung by a dragon specific animal," Danny finished, tapping his forearm as he did so.

"I've never heard of Gehenna Wasps stowing away on a plane," Steve said. He'd heard of them, of course, yet had never been stung by one.

"We'd come across them once in a blue moon, but for some reason they'd get really bad in waves," Chin said. "I remember the spring of 2002 and 2006, and then the summer of 2007 being bad."

"Yeah, well, that late spring of 2010 we found out that the tip we had gotten about the illegal goods was actually talking about the bugs. Some dumb schmuck was trying to smuggle them in because, apparently, mentally unstable people like to collect them," Danny said with a disgusted look. "Whatever he had been keeping them in became unsealed and they escaped with a score to settle. And guess what some of their favorite food is?"

A knowing grin crossed Kono's face. "Dragon fruit."

"Give the girl a prize."

"I don't know what _lolo_ would want to keep those around. I was stung three times by them and would rather step on a sea urchin than get stung by one of those soldiers again," Chin deadpanned.

Kono winced. "Glad I never had to deal with them."

"If you had been with HPD as a rookie, I guarantee you would've come across them," Chin said. He pointed at her. "Senior officers know to send the rookies to check on flights coming out of South America."

"What humans don't understand is that dragons have an over reaction to Gehenna Wasp venom, so it hurts exponentially more than when they get stung," Danny sighed and sunk down in his camp chair, staring at the flickering flames dancing in the firepit. "Meka was a good guy. He called later that afternoon to make sure I hadn't croaked and did both of our reports for that little incident."

Chin set his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Steve sighed. That whole debacle when Meka was murdered had been hard on his partner. It had been exasperated by the fact that IA was being pigheaded, the HPD shut them out, and Steve himself had turned on his partner when the man had needed someone in his corner. It unsettled his gut when he thought about it.

But right here, right now, he was here for him. For all of them. Even if was just listening to them recount their tales of close encounters of the bug kind.

"So, Super SEAL, you're awfully quiet."

He looked up from the fire. His team all stared at him. "What?"

"Have you ever been bitten or stung by a dragon specific animal?" Danny asked. He waved his hand around at the three cops sitting around the fire. "I've been stung by a Gehenna Wasp, bitten by that Tree Whip Snake, and there're a few other encounters in there. Chin was just telling us how he's been bitten and stung so many times he's lost count, and Kono is the only lucky one."

"Does a jellyfish count?" she asked.

"Was it a dragon specific jellyfish?"

"I don't think so."

"Then no, hush up."

Steve scratched at the stubble on his jaw. "I got bit by some kind of fish while my team was in…an undisclosed location."

"Excuse me, did you say a fish?" Danny furrowed his brows at him.

"Yeah, about a foot long, almost looked like an eel, but we were in a river heading upstream," Steve said. It had been an interesting incident with too many things he'd have to leave out to be worth telling.

"And? What happened?" Kono pressed.

"It sucked," he said. At the exasperated looks he received he held up his hands defensively and shrugged. "Come on guys, it's classified."

"Of course it is," Danny waved him off.

Chin poked a stick at the embers glowing at the base of their campfire. "Nature's kind of funny that way."

"I fail to see how that's nature, unless it's in Steve's nature to pull the classified card whenever he doesn't want to talk," Danny said.

"No. Dragons are tough and hard to kill, very mighty beasts," Chin said. "But yet, a small bug can put us in our place. It's an incredible balancing act."

"Okay," Kono drawled slowly and sat back. "Gettin' deep on us, cuz."

The four of them sat for a while longer and watched the fire. The sky had darkened to a deep velvety tone with hoary flecks blinking to life above them. Crickets and the sound of the surf crashing on the shore almost had Steve in a state of peace with his eyes closed when Kono started singing.

"In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the dragon sleeps tonight."

Steve cracked open an eye. "How much beer have you had?"

"Oh, come on, Steve, it's a classic."

"I'm pretty sure it's a lion, not a dragon."

"Spoilsport," Kono huffed and started again.

"In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the dragon sleeps tonight," Chin harmonized with his cousin. "Wee-ooh wim-o-weh."

"Wim-o-weh o-wim-o-weh o-wim-o-weh o-wim-o-weh," Danny sang and directed a challenging grin at Steve.

With both his partner and the cousins o-wim-o-wehing, it was only a matter of time before he couldn't hold out.

"Near the village, the peaceful village, the dragon sleeps tonight," he smirked at them.

The island's native singers had competition that night.

* * *

 **Impromptu karaoke! My bad. That one sort of just happened.**

 **There is artwork for those chapter. It's just a sketch of a Gehenna Wasp soldier, so you can check that out if you want. By the way,** **_loko 'ino pu'u_ roughly means 'evil insect'.**

 **Next Tuesday on "Dragons", Steve finds Danny on the beach late at night and joins him. Beer, angst, and a story concerning wings included.**

 **Thanks for reading, faving, following, and reviewing! Still could use letter suggestions for Q-Z. ;)**


	44. Fact 42

**It's been such a busy week. I almost forgot to edit and post this.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #42: A bond between two friends might as well be steel forged by dragon fire.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

Steve lay awake, staring at the tent ceiling. All the talk of bugs had produced a phantom scorpion that woke him from his light sleep. His mind vividly replicated the pricks of its feet scuttling across his arm, a sensation he was familiar with from having spent time overseas in the desert regions of the world. That was one thing he definitely enjoyed about being back in Hawaii. He didn't have to fear that he was sharing his bed with something strange.

Now, he was awake and listening to the quiet sounds of the waves crashing on the beach, of the crickets chirping, and of a soft breeze rustling in the canopy above their tents.

He sat up. The night was peaceful, yet he had a feeling that one of his teammates was not finding any rest. He hadn't asked about Danny and Kono being up that morning, wandering around the shoreline and alternating between friendly conversation and tired laughing. Chin merely confirmed that Kono had left the tent and never returned.

Steve unzipped the tent flap and crawled out into the cool night. He glanced at the hammock strung between the trees a few paces to the left of his tent. Empty. Danny had told him he wasn't comfortable bunking with him in the tent and would prefer to sleep outside in the hammock. Of course, he had cited the reason being that Steve snored and did karate in his sleep, which he didn't. Steve guessed the reason to be something closer to the fact that it was an enclosed space that triggered unwanted memories.

He trekked up to the lookout point first and didn't find his partner up there. From that lonely perch that overlooked the blanket of the ocean and crystal clear night sky, he could see Danny down on the shore in ankle deep water. He backtracked and made a pitstop before heading over the damp sand towards him.

"Didn't know my snoring was that loud," he joked.

Danny jumped at his voice. He twisted to look at him, bending his wing back out of his line of sight. Briefly, Steve wanted to ask if the wings were present due to a nightmare or if he had willingly shifted them out, but one look at his exhausted partner told him to leave it be. For now.

"Freaking ninja," Danny commented lowly.

Steve held out a beer to him. It had come to be known as a peace offering amongst the team. If any argument, bad case, hospital trip, etcetera ended with a beer, it was going to be okay. Danny accepted it. They stood in silence for a while, sipping their beers and watching the moonlight dance on the ocean.

"There's this place in the Maldives where the waves glow as they wash up on the beach," Steve tilted his bottle at the shallow water.

"Huh," Danny scratched at his chin and then loosely gestured at the waves. "Sounds kind of bizarre. I bet Gracie would like to see it. Ever since that movie with all the glowing plants on that alien planet came out, she's into that bioluminescent stuff."

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," Steve grinned and took a sip. He looked up at the sky and at the horizon and then at his partner. "You awake because you don't have a TV with infomercials to drown out the sound of the ocean?"

"Funny. You're funny," Danny stepped farther up on the shore and sat down in the dryer sand. He anchored his bottle in the grains and set his arms on his knees, letting the tips of the fingerbones of his wings settle on the ground. The wings formed a barrier around him like the walls of a sandcastle. "Eli Boyd."

Steve's brows furrowed as he lowered himself onto the sand next to him. "Who's Eli Boyd?"

"He was one of the ones that came off of the _Ostara's Charm_ ," Danny said.

Steve rubbed his thumb over the label on his bottle. He had been so caught up in coordinating with authorities in their combined efforts to stamp out every last piece of the operation, he had failed to learn much about the actual dragons they had rescued. Danny had, against his advice, taken it all on his shoulders to make sure everyone was accounted for and returned to their families and friends.

"The morning we left, I got a call. He…he committed suicide," his voice tapered off into a gruff whisper.

"Man," Steve whispered. He reached a hand up and rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the sand between his feet. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Danny's hands fluttered out. "He had apparently been on the ship for two years. I was barely on a ship for a day and I was losing my mind."

Steve sighed heavily. There was no easy way to deal with what had happened. The men and women off the ships were going to be scarred forever. Some would recover to a more normal life with only waking nightmares, others would need far more support. Others still, they wouldn't make it. He had seen the same situation with soldiers coming home from war. Some fought through it to make a life for themselves, some couldn't cope.

He didn't know what to say to his partner. There wasn't much to say.

"No one's going to forget him, bud. And we won't let Marilyn and Jeffrey forget any of the people they've hurt," he finally said.

They lapsed into silence again. The waves crested and crashed into the sand, reaching foamy white fingers up towards them before retreating back to the ocean. Up above, the stars were in positions that were seldom seen. If Steve's internal clock was correct, it was two thirty in the morning. The angle of the Milky Way was different than late in the evening and early in the morning. Its clusters of stars twinkled and blinked. It was the same sky that Steve would see from his house east of Diamond Head and from the rocky cliffs of Afghanistan and from the open waters of the Indian Ocean. Always the same.

"You know, you were a royal pain to play capture the flag with today."

He smirked and looked over at Danny. "You're just saying that because you lost."

Danny held up a finger. "It wasn't a complete loss. At least, you're not undefeated."

Steve shook his head. "How did you guys pull that off, anyway?"

This time it was Danny who smirked. "It's a classified maneuver."

"You cheated," he said and drained the last of his beer.

"We did not cheat. I would never cheat. I win games fair and square, unlike someone who throws out the rules when they don't suit him."

"No, I'm pretty sure you and Chin cheated," Steve said.

"Fine. If you must know, Mr. Pumpkin-eater–"

He snorted. "Wow. First liar, liar, now cheater, cheater?"

"Do you want to know or not?"

Steve shut his mouth and waited.

Danny bent a wing at the elbow joint so it folded down with the wrist resting on the sand, which cleared his view of Steve and allowed him to properly demonstrate with his hands the so-called secret maneuver. "You and Kono were playing like humans no longer existed."

He furrowed his brows, but held his tongue.

"So, Chin and I decided that we had hidden our flag well enough that we didn't need a guard, and that let us both sneak onto your side," Danny's hands gave him a visual guide as to what was going on.

"Okay. But I only heard you approaching. How did Chin get the flag?" he asked.

"You see, you may camouflage against the backdrop of the jungle while Kono and I stick out, but there is an even bigger difference between you and me," Danny said. He raised his brows, like he was waiting for him to answer. Which he did in typical fashion.

"I'm the handsome one?"

Danny gave him the stink eye and casually flipped his wing up, sending a spray of sand over Steve. He spat and brushed his hands down his t-shirt and shorts before running a hand through his hair. Grains fell off in a gritty sprinkle.

"I got it!" Steve stopped scratching and pointed. "He held onto you under your wing and you smuggled him in without me realizing."

"And while you were distracted with me, as I knew you would be, he dropped off, got the flag, and ran it back to our side before you even noticed it was gone," Danny finished.

Steve grunted. "I have to admit, it was a good play."

"Thank you," Danny said. His hand flicked out. "But it was Chin's idea."

He grinned and glanced at him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the burnt umber and cinnamon marbled wings with their pale nautilus patterned undersides moving slightly in the gentle breeze. There was still a question he wanted to ask, but he was going to have to do it subtly.

"Yeah, well, Kono and I would've been screwed if you could fly."

Danny eyed him.

Subtlety was never his forte, anyway. "Why can't you fly?"

"Who says I can't?"

"Uh, you did. At the museum."

"Didn't you already use your question for the day?"

"That was yesterday's question. Technically, it's a new day."

Danny exhaled noisily through his nose and crossed his arms over his knees. He mumbled as he rested his chin on them.

Steve strained to hear him. "What was that?"

"Jersey isn't exactly the place to learn how to fly," he started slowly.

A small speck of understanding started to grow. "Didn't your dad take you out to the forest somewhere? Teach you how to fly? They have forests around there."

"Pop is a Cliff like me," Danny's hand motioned to himself. "But, his wings are stunted. Malformed. Apparently, a lot of Cliffs are born with goofy wings, which is why my ma almost had a heart attack when she saw mine."

"So, it's not that you can't fly, it's that you don't know how," Steve said.

"No, Steven, I don't know how, okay?" One of his wings shot out in an angry display, gesturing just as vividly as his hands did. "When I was fourteen, Matty and I were screwing around while we were at our uncle's farm in Maine and I decided I was going to teach myself to fly. There was this big old lake there on the edge of his property. One side was flat with a beach and the other side had cliffs. We only ever jumped off the small ones, you know, because we weren't completely stupid, but I decided that when it came to flying, the higher the better."

Steve scooted closer as the trembling wing returned to Danny's side.

"An updraft caught me and slammed me against the cliff. I bounced my head off the rocks and fell in the water. I wasn't unconscious, but if Matty and Bridget hadn't been there I probably would have drowned," he said. His left wing raised up. "Fractured two wing bones, had a mild concussion, bruised my shoulder, knocked a few ribs out of place, and was royally chewed out by Pop and Uncle Rob."

Aha. That was it. Steve knew his partner well enough to understand. He knew that it had taken him moving to Hawaii to even get back in the ocean after Billy and understood that it had been hard for him to get in the water again. He knew that things that happened to him in his childhood stuck with him and understood that those things shaped him into the man he is. It made perfect sense to him that this accident might have curbed him from flying.

"Kono said you can glide," he said.

Danny giggled fractionally. "That was the first time in a long time that I'd been in the air."

"So, you have tried to fly since you were fourteen?"

"No. Not what you would deem flying, anyway. That Wyvern, Duncan, he could fly, doing all the acrobatics and slamming into buildings and grappling with a helicopter midair. I do just enough to make sure I don't lose muscle tone in my wings," he flexed them out behind him, stretching the membrane between the fingerbones. "Have to keep up my irresistible appearance, because out of the two of us, I know I'm the handsome one."

Steve shook his head with a grin. An idea started to formulate in his mind. An idea that would involve team building. At least, it would require trust. Now if he could only get his partner onboard with it.

"I could teach you how to fly."

The look Danny gave him was one that said he initially thought he was joking. Upon seeing he wasn't, his brows went up. And then they went down suspiciously.

"I don't even like flying in regular aircraft with you. Why would I want you to teach me how to fly? You don't even know how to fly. You glide. That's falling with style."

"Okay, Woody, you have a point there."

Danny chuckled. "You just got a kid's movie reference. You're going soft."

Steve set his elbows on his knees, feeling proud of himself. "I know how flying works. Please? If we crash and burn on the first go around we don't have to try again."

"Babe, all it takes is _one_ crash and burn, and then I don't fly period," Danny said. "Or I die on this deserted island with your ugly mug as the last one I see."

"I won't let you go out like that," Steve said. He held up his hand. "I've got your back. Always. I promise."

Danny looked at his hand and at his solemn face. With a relenting sigh, he clasped his hand in Steve's.

* * *

 **Well. That will lead to some hijinks.**

 **Next Tuesday on "Dragons", Steve makes good on his word and attempts to teach Danny how to fly.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, and faving!**


	45. Fact 43

**Boom. Flying chapter.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #43: Flying is not for the faint of heart.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

"Steve, remember what I said before about not being a museum exhibit for you to gawk at?" Danny warned.

"I'm not gawking! Would you quit being so pigheaded and just open up one wing?" Steve crossed his arms over his chest.

Chin and Kono shared a look with each other as they watched the partners have a staring contest. They could scarcely believe what they had heard that morning at breakfast. Steve had been more excited about it than Danny, who made a passing comment about not making sleep deprived decisions anymore. The cousins agreed whole heartedly that the only reason that Danny had signed on to flying lessons was because of lack of sleep.

"Brah, you sure you can teach him how to fly?" Kono asked.

Chin braced a hand on his knee and scooted forward on the log he and his cousin had chosen as their perch for watching the start of this go down. "I didn't think Arboreals really flew."

"That's what I told him," Danny said and pointed a monstrously long claw at his partner. "It's just–"

"Falling with style," Steve finished. He tilted his head back, having to look up slightly to actually look Danny in the eye. It was a rather surreal feeling. "Come on, man, why do you have to be like this all the time?"

"Because you insist on acting like a caveman all the time," Danny retorted, but he flung one wing open wide and slapped several leaves off their branches up in the canopy.

Steve took his chance while he had it and went to his side under the shelter of his wing. He remained quiet with a calculating expression on his face, like he was trying to figure out a particularly high tech piece of equipment. His eyes roved from shoulder to wrist to fingerbone tip, his fingers occasionally touching the smooth membrane or muscular joint where the wing connected behind Danny's foreleg shoulder bone.

Danny finally decided he'd had enough of the touching and collapsed his wing, tucking it back against his side. "Okay, you're done. What was that all about anyway, huh?"

"I'm trying to figure out why kind of flying you're built for," Steve ran a hand through his hair and glanced over at Chin. "Kind of like an ' _io_ , don't you think?"

"What's an ' _io_?" Danny asked and cast a curious look over his shoulder at his wings. It had to be some type of bird. Or a bat. He frowned. He never really cared for bats and didn't like his wings to be likened to bat wings.

"It's a Hawaiian hawk," Chin put his worries about bats to rest, and then nodded at Steve's question. "Yeah, they're kind of the same shape."

"They're almost a hybrid of passive soaring and elliptical," Steve explained to his partner. His lips quirked up into a smirk. "Which means, you could probably fly fast if you wanted to."

"Oh no. No, no, no, no," Danny shook his head. One front foot flicked out in mimic of his hand gestures. "We are going to go nice and slow if I even manage to get into the air. There will be no speed flying or evasive maneuvers, okay?"

Steve held his hands up. "Okay. But we're going to have to go somewhere higher than here."

* * *

He should have known better. Why would they start off in an open meadow where there were soft ferns and underbrush and grass to land in? Or on the beach where he could at least make an emergency belly flop into the water? It'd be too easy, that's why. No, he had allowed himself to be convinced to hike up to the highest point on their deserted island.

Chin and Kono waited down low, probably laying bets down on how fast he was going to crash and burn. Would he be able to control his landing or would it be a complete and total failure? If another updraft caught him, he could do a lot worse than fracture some wing bones and knock his ribs out of place. Broken wing bones screwed with shifting, because one could not magically make an injury go away by shifting. Tail injuries usually appeared low on the back, but wing injuries? Those caused so much pain and wouldn't completely disappear when in human form until the bones had mended. He'd be stuck with his wing out, or worse depending on where the injury was in his wing.

"Danny?"

He focused on Steve standing ahead of him with a slightly concerned look. While his anxiety had done its usual job of running through worst case scenarios, he had slowed his walking until he was frozen and staring blankly at the ground.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, of course I'm fine," he said. Steve eyed him. He relented with a sigh. "No, I'm not fine, okay? The last few times I've gotten in the air is because either something bad is happening or something bad is going to happen, okay? First, I almost axe myself as a stupid teenager and then the next time I actually get into the air, it's because Kono is falling to her death and a Wyvern is hellbent on burning us all to crisps!"

Steve backtracked to him to where he was almost too close for comfort. "Danny, that's not going to happen this time."

He appreciated the pure conviction that his partner had. When the man put his mind to it, nothing stood in his way. Unfortunately, gravity was a bit of a hard opponent to beat versus a gunman that could be tackled. Trying to muffle the negative voice babbling like a fool at the back of his mind, he followed Steve the rest of the way up the ridge.

The ridge had a sweeping view of the south side of the island. A green canopy of leaves undulated over hills and valleys before giving way to the sandy beach and turquoise ocean. Warm sunshine rained down on them, pure and unobscured by trees up here.

Danny admired the beauty with a grudging acknowledgement that Jersey did not have views like this. He admired the beauty until he stood by Steve on the edge of the rocky outcrop and looked down. His claws flexed, digging into the ground, and his wings clamped shut tightly against his body with a slight tremble.

"Why did I let you talk me into this?" he asked and shot a glare at his partner.

"Because deep down you really want to fly," Steve said and grinned an irksome grin. "This is how birds do it."

"Excuse me? I am not some baby bird you're going to kick out of the nest," he glanced over the edge again, his heart racing at the sheer drop. He kept himself firmly planted just in case Steve did kick him.

"This is how birds learn how to fly."

He shook his head emphatically. "This is how birds learn how to _die_."

Steve gestured for him to step back from the edge. "These are thermals coming up. Gusts of hot air, like what comes out of you when you start ranting about proper police procedure."

His crest flared up along the back of his neck, but he was cut off before he was able to retaliate with a snarky comment.

"These are what vultures use to fly. They jump off of high places and let the thermals do all the work for them," Steve explained.

"I know what thermals are, Steven, remember? That's what flung me around like a ragdoll and threw me against a cliff last time."

"The key is not to panic," Steve set a hand on his shoulder. "When you panic, your wings start to fold and then the thermals can rip you around."

"How do you even know all of this?" Danny questioned.

Steve shrugged. "How do you think I learned to glide? Once I was a teen, jumping off the top of the house didn't give me enough gliding time to learn anything."

Danny shook his head again. He inched closer to the edge, peering over it and feeling the warm air blow against his face. Just throw himself over the edge, huh? Just like that. Even the mere thought of it made him curl his claws into the rocks in an effort to root him to the spot.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him. He looked over his shoulder. "How are you supposed to help me when you're standing up here and I'm out there?"

Steve grinned a little too broadly as he approached. "Who says I'm staying here?"

"What? Wait, what are you–"

Danny grunted as Steve used his shoulder as a hand hold and swiftly swung himself up on his back in front of his wings and right behind his neck.

"No! No, no, no, no! I am not some wild animal for you to ride. Get off," he jerked his shoulders, but Steve had a good grip with his knees. "You are such a Neanderthal! What if I crash, huh? What then? Or what if you fall forward onto my crest and impale yourself like a pincushion?"

"You're not going to crash, and even if you do, I can glide. And if you're that worried about your crest, lay it flat," Steve brushed his hand over the crest of spiky, flattened scales to smooth them down.

"You're going to be the death of me, you know that? You're going to get us both killed one day because you're a bonehead," Danny muttered and forced his crest to be as at rest as it could be. He shakily extended his wings while looking over the edge. "Are you sure we can't go somewhere lower?"

"With as big as you are, you're going to need all the updraft you can catch."

He felt Steve crouch low on him, his knees digging into his shoulders and his hands pressing against the overlapping scales on either side of his neck. With a deep breath he opened his wings fully. The thermal tugged at them without him even having to step off the ridge.

"Remember, keep your wings open all the way," Steve said. "And don't panic. I've got your back, Danno. Always."

Danny swallowed. He steadied himself on the precipice, bringing his hindfeet closer to where the claws were mere centimeters away from the edge that he had begun to lean over. He pulled one last deep breath in and then leapt.

The thermal billowed under his wings, pushing him high into the sky as if he was in a wind tunnel. He let out a surprised curse at the weightless sensation. His wings wobbled and his feet clawed uselessly at the air in the start of a freak out.

"Tuck your feet up," Steve's voice directed somewhere close to his ear. "Keep your wings out and feel where the air's going."

Danny tucked his front feet up to his chest like a hamster and relaxed his hindfeet so they streamlined behind him like a heron with his ankles barely touching. Their climb into the sky evened out.

"Now what?"

"Feel the air."

Feel the air? He frowned and focused on the current of warm air under his wings. It wasn't only going straight up. It was its own ocean. There were small ebbs and flows from different angles, directing air around him in seemingly random patterns. Experimentally, he canted the tip of his right wing up.

He spiraled left sharply. With a yelp he tried to correct his path.

"Don't fight it! Lean into it."

He could feel Steve leaning left and he did, too. Once he completed a circle he straightened out his wings. The updraft sent him back up in a steady climb.

"Little adjustments, partner. It's like when you're driving fast."

"Really? I wouldn't know, I never get to drive," he said.

"I guess the high marks on your pursuit driving test are falsified."

"I knew you went snooping through my file."

"As soon as I hired you. Now, focus."

He snorted, but obediently tipped his wing up again, this time only slightly. They gently banked left in a graceful circle. Making small adjustments as he flew, he was starting to understand what Steve was talking about. The smallest moves altered his flight. With the updraft under him, it hardly took any work at all. He could see why Steve had wanted to start off at the highest possible point.

"What if a flock of birds runs into us?" he asked.

"You really always go for the worst case scenario, don't you?"

"The paranoid survive, babe."

"The paranoid die of a heart attack at an early age."

Danny smirked to himself, enjoying getting a rise out of his partner for once instead of the other way around.

They coasted above the island on the thermals, doing lazy circles in both directions for another ten or fifteen minutes. As he was coming out of a spiral there was distinct change in the air pattern. When Danny looked down again, he noticed that they were well away from the ridge.

"Um, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't feel the thermals anymore."

The updrafts that had held him aloft were lessening as he cruised south. He felt like he was on a kiddie waterslide, gently decreasing in altitude bit by bit until the ground was closer than he'd like and he no longer had anything buoying him up.

"Keep your wings out. We're going to do a crash course in landing."

"Crash being the key word."

"No. Look for an opening to land in."

Trees. There were mostly trees. The problem with the tropical climate was that it allowed the jungle to grow densely and left little if any openings for him to land in. How in the world did birds zoom in at a hundred miles an hour and land so perfectly on a twig?

"How about that patch of grass at eleven o'clock?"

"Yeah, that's good. Now, I want you very slightly tilt the tip of your right wing up until you're in line with it."

Easy does it. Easy, easy…there. He was lined up with the opening, but he was still going relatively fast. Fast enough that he'd trip and break something landing at this speed. "How do I slow down?"

"When we get a hundred feet from it, barely angle both wings up so the back edges are down and your wrists are up. The air will catch in them like parachutes."

The leaves were getting scarily close to his feet now, a blurry mass of green racing under him. Closer, closer. Almost there. A cluster of leaves that was taller than the others smacked one of his hindfeet. He snapped his wings up in surprise.

They caught like parachutes, alright. It was like he'd been clotheslined. He went upright briefly and then dropped into the canopy. He bounced off of branches, one right after the other. As an especially thick one cracked under him, he decided he might as well have been in a big plinko machine. Instead of a cash prize at the bottom, though, he crashed to the ground with the wind knocked out of him.

His head rested on the dirt and one wing fluttered up as if to send up a white flag. He groaned.

"Danny! Danny!"

Peeling open his eyes, he searched for the source of the voice. It was still way up in the canopy. Steve.

"Danny, are you okay?"

He blinked slowly. Groaning again, he gathered his front feet under him and pushed his chest off the ground. So far, so good. His wings returned to his sides with only minor twitches of pain from scratches and bruises. The trees must have broken his fall enough that he hadn't hit the ground with enough force to break anything.

Steve dropped into the undergrowth a few yards away. "Danny, are you okay? Did you break anything?"

He rolled his neck and stretched out each limb to double check that nothing was more than bruised. His one knee complained somewhat, but that was normal for him. Other than that, he seemed to be in one piece.

"Remind me how you were saying that it wasn't going to be a crash landing?" Danny glanced up at the trail of destroyed foliage and busted branches he had left behind.

"You just braked too early. You did pretty good for your first time flying," Steve smiled and tossed his arm over his shoulders. "Want to try again?"

Muscles still shaking from the rush of adrenaline, he shook his head. "No. I think I'm done for today."

"But–"

"Steven."

"Okay," Steve sighed.

They walked away from the crash site side by side, Danny relying on Steve to know which way they needed to go to get back to their camp. From what he had seen from above, they were to the west of it by roughly a quarter mile. It was getting close to noon and his stomach was telling him about it. Hotdogs roasted over an open fire sounded heavenly right about now. Pair them with a beer and he'd shake off the adrenaline coursing through him in no time.

"Hey," he said to catch his partner's attention. Steve looked back at him and Danny bared his teeth in a grin. "That was kind of fun."

The grins that split both of their faces were priceless.

* * *

 **Step 1 of flying lessons completed. Step 2 is pending.**

 **Next Tuesday on "Dragons", Steve recalls an incident with Grace that Danny was unaware of.**

 **Okay, two things. One, the person that gets the 250th review gets a special surprise! Two, if you would be so kind as to mention your favorite board game for another Five-0 project I'm working on, that would be fantastic. :)**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	46. Fact 44

**Almost forgot it was Tuesday. My bad. Would've been in trouble with some faithful readers...**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #44: Certain skills need to be taught from one dragon to another.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

"Smooth landing, brah," Kono teased as soon as they returned to their campsite.

The cousins, seeing as neither could fly or glide, had watched from a safe distance before returning back to the tents to stoke the fire and get lunch going. Danny was practically drooling at the smell of hotdogs roasting to the precise temperature needed to split them open. He disappeared behind the tents for a few minutes before returning in his fully clothed human form.

"One of those for me?" Danny asked and pointed at hotdog that had just been placed in a bun by Kono.

"Nah. Chin and I were planning on eating a dozen hotdogs by ourselves," Kono said. She grinned and handed the hotdog to him.

Steve pulled another one off the fire, put it in a bun, and dressed it to his desire. "I could eat a dozen hotdogs when I was fifteen."

"Kono here could inhale them," Chin said. "I remember her scarfing down fifteen of them once."

Danny and Steve turned wide eyes on her. Kono shrugged.

"While I enjoy these artery clogging, gout flaring tubes of questionable meat as much as the next guy, or girl, fifteen is a ridiculous amount to eat in one setting," Danny plopped down in his camp chair and gestured loosely in Kono's direction. "I topped out at ten."

"I had been shifting back forth between human and dragon form all day. I was hungry!" Kono defended. She stuffed the last bite of her current hotdog in her mouth.

Chin turned toward Danny. "Those were some nice spirals you were doing up there."

Danny laughed. "The first one I did felt like I was going down the drain in a bathtub."

"He figured it out pretty fast," Steve said. "Just need to work on the landing."

"I'm sorry, okay? A branch jumped out of the trees and smacked my foot. It startled me and I tilted my wings up too high and then wham! It was like I hit an invisible wall," Danny said.

Kono nodded, swallowing the last of her hotdog. "Yeah, we noticed. It looked like you stalled midair and then dropped."

"All the birds shot out of the trees," Chin added.

"I don't understand how birds learn by getting kicked out of the nest," Danny gave Steve a meaningful glare. "I mean, it's just fly or die with them."

"It's tough love," Steve smirked. "Hey, at least you had a teacher onboard with you."

"The putz hops on my back like he's some kind of cowboy or something," Danny explained to the cousins and jerked a thumb at his partner. "He's some kind of animal, right?"

"You know you love me," Steve said.

Danny waved him off. "I don't know how you've endeared you and your caveman ways to us, but you have. Grace thinks that Uncle Steve is the coolest, which is highly worrisome to me, her father, who wants her to stay safe and sound and not fill a bottle with water and dry ice and then put the cap on, chuck it, and run, Steven."

Steve ducked his head a little. That small science project was supposed to stay his and Grace's secret. He chomped on his hotdog to avoid talking while Danny continued to recount the tale of his daughter deciding to become a Mythbuster for a weekend. He considered ratting on Chin, who was the one that had showed her how to make sticky bubbles with water, soap, and corn syrup, but kept his mouth shut in fear that it would be revealed he was the one that let her play with Roman Candles. Danny would never let the two of them babysit his daughter ever again.

He remembered the first time Grace had been left alone with him. It was an awkward time as he had never really been great with kids. After getting to know her, though, each time got progressively easier and more fun. For such a quiet and easy going kid, she was a spunky squirt. She had told him once that she liked being around other dragons along with her Danno.

A thought struck him, causing his brows to furrow. "Did Grace ever tell you about the time I had to go over to Rachel's house to help her?"

Danny's rant on proper child care ceased and he stared at Steve with an intense expression. "When? When did you have to go over to Rachel's house? What happened? Where was I? Why didn't she call me?"

"Woah, woah, easy there, partner," Steve said before his thoughts could go down the wrong tracks. "You were in Jersey for your sister's birthday…."

* * *

 _2011…._

Steve guided his truck through the streets in the upscale neighborhood, his heart hammering in his chest and his thoughts swirling around in whirlpools. Rachel was the last person he expected to hear from this morning. When her name popped up on his phone his first response was that something was wrong and she couldn't get a hold of Danny. Or maybe he had called her and something sounded off. Maybe his partner was in trouble some five thousand miles away.

He pulled up to the gates of the lavish house. They parted before he could get out of the truck to ring the buzzer.

Rachel stood in the doorway waiting for him, looking both cross and worried. It was a strange and surreal feeling being at the Edwards' residence without his partner there. He stepped across the threshold and glanced around for any sign that things were not as they seemed. Years as a SEAL and then as head of Five-0 had ingrained that basic instinct into him.

"I'm sorry, Steve. Danny called last night and said that they were going to his Uncle Rob's farm in Maine where there is no cell signal, so I didn't know who else to call," Rachel explained as she led him to a flight of stairs and began the climb upwards.

"You said Grace needed help. Is she okay? Shouldn't she be at school today?" Steve looked at his watch. It was barely eleven o'clock on a Wednesday morning.

"The school called me and told me that she was complaining of the chills and nausea," Rachel sighed. "When we got in the car, however, she told me that she wasn't sick."

Bullies. Anxiety. Skipping a test. All the reasons to play hooky swam through Steve's brain. Although, he wasn't sure why he would be the one to get called in if any of those were the case. Rachel could talk to Grace about those things as could Stan, or if it was necessary, Danny could talk to her either when his phone was in range of a tower again or when he returned home.

Rachel tapped her knuckles on a closed door on one side of the hallway upstairs. "Grace? Your Uncle Steve is here."

The door cracked open and Grace peered out at them. She reached out, took Steve's hand in hers, pulled him into her room, and shut the door. Steve was bewildered. Even though he had none of his own and hadn't been around many children except for Grace, he knew that this was odd behavior.

Grace dragged him over to her bed, sitting him down on the edge. She peeled out of her light jacket and presented her arms to him. "I can't make them go away."

Suddenly, he understood why he had been called in. This wasn't a problem Rachel or Stan could handle. This was the type of problem that required the assistance of a dragon. With Danny out of town, he was the next best candidate. Pushing his wondering of how Rachel knew he was a dragon aside for the moment, he intently examined the beautiful delicate auburn and gold scales that splotched over her forearms.

With an unsure voice, he asked, "Why did you have them out?"

Grace scrunched up her face. "There was a spider on my arm while we were doing math and I panicked and a few scales started to show up. I tried to make them go away, but even more showed up and so I asked to go to the bathroom and they still wouldn't go away no matter how hard I tried and so I put my jacket on and pretended I was sick so Mom would come pick me up."

A gentle smile cracked his face. "I had the same thing happen to me when I was in middle school."

"Really?" she blinked, and then grinned at him.

"Oh yeah," he nodded seriously. "Except, it wasn't on my arms. They came out all over my face."

She gasped. "What'd you do?"

"I smeared mud all over myself and told the teacher that I had fallen playing football and asked if I could call my dad and have him bring me new clothes," he said.

Grace giggled at his solution, but then sighed. Her grin drooped into a frown. "Mom doesn't know much about dragons. Danno usually teaches me about shifting and stuff."

Steve had figured as much. They had been here in this very house when Danny had divulged to him that Rachel was full blooded human and Grace was only a mixed blood. At least with not being a full shifter the largest of her concerns were scales, not getting a wing or tail stuck out without being able to figure out how to retract it. He'd been there, done that, too.

"In my experience, when you can't shift it's because you're too stressed or frustrated," Steve said.

"But, you guys can shift just like that," she snapped her fingers.

"I know. It comes with age and practice," he patted the edge of the bed next to him. She sat with a huff. "Take a deep breath in, and then let it out slowly."

She closed her eyes and did as he said, but it sounded more like an irritated puff.

He tried a different tactic. "Uh, how about this. Think about something calming. Swimming, taking a jog outside, something like that."

Her brows pinched together. "Danno says only you run for fun."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. What do you like to do? What makes you happy?"

Her forehead crinkled in concentration. Her twiddling fingers started to still. Eventually, the lines on her young face smoothed and she began to take deep breaths in and out. Her lips twitched with the beginning of a grin.

"That's it," he said as the scales faded into her skin one by one.

Grace peeked at her arms and smiled gratefully. She ran her hands up and down them to make sure that the scales were really gone before turning her beaming face up at him.

"Thanks, Uncle Steve," she wrapped her arms around his torso.

He hugged her back. Once she let go he stood up and ruffled her hair. "Anytime, kiddo."

She scuffed her barefoot on the carpet and asked, "Can we go swimming again sometime? You know, me and you and Danno and Uncle Chin and Auntie Kono?"

"Of course. When your dad comes back we'll work something out, okay?" he said. There were many things on the island to entertain a girl her age, but she wanted to hang out with her extended _ohana_. He felt rather privileged. She flopped back on her bed and snagged a book off the nightstand, leaving him to let himself out.

Rachel was standing in the hallway. "Are they gone?"

He narrowed his eyes in the slightest at her. "The scales?"

She gave an almost imperceptible head bob.

"Yeah, she's got it under control now."

Rachel brushed her bangs out of her face with a nervous flit of her hand and led him back toward the staircase. "I knew Danny was a dragon when I married him. It was part of his allure. Those rich reds and gold flecks in his scales and that rather peculiar tongue." A rosy color tinted her cheeks. She glanced up at him with a muddled expression. "It never even crossed my mind that any child of ours would be a mixed blood."

Steve knew that Danny had hinted at Rachel being afraid of the fact that Grace had dragon blood in her veins. Originally, he had come to the conclusion she was bias against dragons, but hearing her talk about Danny made him draw a different conclusion. She was scared. Scared of what other humans thought of dragons. As his partner had said, for all that the world had changed, some things simply seemed to be stuck a certain way.

"It's not Danny's fault, you know," he said lowly, trying to not come off too aggressive or defensive.

"No, I suppose it isn't," she whispered. "But that doesn't change anything, does it?"

* * *

 _Present…._

Danny picked at the label on his beer bottle, all the humor and fight having gone out of him. Steve shared a look with the cousins. Perhaps he should have kept that story to himself instead of adding more to the load that Danny already carried on his shoulders. That hadn't been his intent.

"Thanks for, you know, going over there and helping my baby when I couldn't," he finally said.

"She's _ohana_ , man, one of ours," Steve said, earning a subtle nod from him.

Chin clasped his hands together and leaned forward in his camp chair. "That was when you took off from work that one morning, right?"

"Yeah. I can't even remember what we had been doing," Steve confirmed. He cast a glance at Danny, but decided he needed at least a little time to stew.

"That was when we were trying to show Lori how the smart table worked. You just took off and she was this close to following you to see what was up," Chin nodded to himself. He added ominously, "I hate to add thunder and lightning to this rainy parade, but I think you need to know something."

The three other members of the team swiveled to face him fully.

"There was another reason Lori quit."

"What?" Steve frowned.

Kono and Danny mirrored each other with shocked expressions.

"No way, cuz, did she…?"

Chin nodded. "Yeah. She knew about us."

* * *

 **Dun dun duuuun!**

 **Next week on "Dragons", Lori finds out the team's secret and has to make a decision. Involves a bit of character exploration.**

 **Congrats to Whitelion69 for getting the 250th review. Had a few readers come out if the woodwork when I mentioned a prize. XD But thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	47. Fact 45

**Well, I tried.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #45: For all that the world has changed, tensions between dragons and humans still exist.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

 _2011-2012…._

She knew. Or at least she should have known on some level, anyway. Some profiler she was. The skills that had let her down in previous months went to work on analyzing herself from when she had first stepped foot on the island. The transfer to Hawaii, the job change, getting saddled with an effective but nearly rogue taskforce had given her whiplash. She wanted to blame it all on that. Whiplash.

Lori sighed as she packed the last of her suitcases. Her apartment was small. A box really. Throughout her life she had never needed much, and it showed in how few boxes and cases she required to ship back to the mainland. Deep down, she admitted that Hawaii had never been home. She had been ready to try and make it home, but that little fantasy disintegrated before her eyes.

Fingering the envelope with her resignation and sitting on the lone chair in the bare room, she cast her thoughts to things she had ignored, things subtler than crossing the line. Private things. Things she shouldn't have been privy to.

* * *

Lori admired Chin's peaceful and focused nature. Of course, she had seen him in action, wielding his shotgun while armored in Kevlar, taking out bad guys left and right without breaking a sweat. For the most part, though, he was a voice of reason in the tropical storms that could brew up between Steve and Danny.

His typical placid expression morphed into a look that told her she had put her foot in her mouth when she asked about Steve's personal life. With him being so chill and approachable, she had found herself rambling to him a bit more than she would have liked and scolded herself mentally for revealing her curiosity about their boss.

"I'm sorry, that was…inappropriate," she paced over to the blinds of the hotel room to check the walkway for their suspect again.

"You know, Steve's a private man," he said. She nodded and looked over at him, finding the placid expression back in place. "He'll open up if you give him time."

She puffed out a sliver of a laugh. "I guess me playing the part of the mysterious stranger spying on the team doesn't really evoke a feeling of openness."

He grinned in agreement. "I think you challenged him to a contest of who could be the most closed off."

"And he's definitely winning. But I guess it's give and take, right?" she said. "I've never been a real open person, but if I throw him a bone, maybe he'll toss one back."

* * *

Once she and Kono had gotten out of range of the two boys on their way to _heiau_ , she let her guard down somewhat. Getting the call from work gave her the excuse to escape that Halloween party and it had been a blessing in disguise. She didn't appreciate getting harassed by the boys when she arrived, but at least with those two she knew it was all teasing.

"Danny's going to get after you for calling him Danno," Kono warned lightly with a small chuckle.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't understand why he's so touchy about that nickname."

"Hey, Grace gave it to him and Steve only uses it to annoy him," Kono said.

"They have a rather infantile sense of humor, don't they?"

"You could say that. So, how was the party?"

"Great. At first. It had started devolving by time I got the call."

"Oh, yeah? What happened?"

"Some creeper wouldn't leave me alone."

"Did you kick his ass?"

"I didn't want to even touch him. He was all covered in scales and had a fake set of horns and a tail on. I guess he was some mixed blood trying to be a dragon," Lori shuddered imperceptibly.

She ignored the frown Kono gave her. Some people had a thing for dragons. She was not one of them.

* * *

Adrenaline pumping, heart racing, she almost entirely dismissed what she saw out of the corner of her eye. Steve and Danny were frantically digging in the dirt pile in search of the bumper of the vehicle all the kids were trapped in, moving in tandem like the partners they were.

Lori spared a moment to blink and cock her head to the side. Dark brownish scales covered Danny's forearms and massive bear like claws shoveled heaps of dirt out of the way. The dragonish traits vanished as quickly as they had appeared when he and Steve backed out of the way to let Chin get in with the scoop.

She shook off the uncomfortable feeling to focus on the task at hand. It made her stomach flutter to think about the times he had teasingly hit on her. How had she been working alongside him for months without noticing? Had anyone else noticed? After they had rescued the kids she would decide what she would do about this.

* * *

Nothing. Lori decided to do nothing about it. Legally, it would be against the law to say anything. Morally, it was a little grayer, but no matter how much she disliked dragons she wasn't the kind of person to reveal secrets. She did consider, however, telling Steve that Danny was a mixed blood or a full blooded dragon. As his boss and especially as his partner, she felt he had a right to know.

She didn't do that one either. The more she thought about it, the more she came to the conclusion that for the pair of them to work as well as they did together, despite their bickering, Steve had to already have known that his partner had dragon blood in him.

And he was okay with it. She wasn't sure she could be okay with it. If she would ever be okay with it. She could repeat that dragons were people and all people were different and that it was xenophobic of her to group them together as one type, but it never changed the fact that she didn't trust dragons. Past events had screwed her over big time and now she was wary of every dragon. Plus, their scales reminded her of snakes and snakes had always given her the chills.

That night at the Governor's charity, she outbid Danny on the football tickets for no other reason than she was slightly pissed about the situation and wanted a tiny bit of revenge. Revenge on him for being so close to Steve and revenge on him for being a dragon.

* * *

Dragons, quite honestly, scared Lori. The idea that they could hide in plain sight was disturbing. The idea that anyone she knew could be hiding scales and fangs caused her to trust infrequently. The idea that she could be so blinded that she had let herself fall for one terrified her.

And in hindsight, she should have realized that all the facts added up to that being the case.

The day after the whole debacle with the Russian diplomat, she stopped by Steve's house. The Governor had given her an ultimatum that morning: Five-0 or the State of Hawaii. It was frustrating, because she had come to learn that everything the team did was for Hawaii, so why did there need to be a choice?

Lori took a breath and edged her way around the house to the backyard. She was going to try something different. That whole give and take thing she had mentioned to Chin a while back. After seeing Steve motionless on the ground yesterday, she knew that she needed to address her feelings for him. He had a thing with Catherine, but she'd never heard him call her his girlfriend. Friend with benefits, maybe?

Either way, all she could do was give it a shot and see what happened.

Steve hadn't answered his front door. From what she had gathered from Danny's ranting, he probably didn't follow any doctor's orders to the letter and would do something stupid, like swimming. She would never understand why Steve was partnered with Danny. He called him a Neanderthal, a bonehead, Rambo, a nutcase, psychotic, and any number of other terms. Personally, she wouldn't put up with that.

But Danny was Steve's friend for some unknown reason, and if she wanted to be with Steve in more than a work capacity, she'd have to accept that. Not that she would ever be comfortable with it.

"Where are you?" she said under her breath as she scanned the private beach and the waves beyond.

She'd been back there once for a team barbeque after Kono had been reinstated. That was nice. And a little bit irritating. Steve was so comfortable with them all and yet she felt like an outsider. That was why she was going to try the give and take thing by asking Steve's opinion on what she should do, how she should answer the Governor. She was determined to scrape out a spot for herself in the team.

Glancing around, she caught sight of a shirt and a pair of swim trunks on one of the Adirondack chairs. Her cheeks flushed and a coy smirk tugged at her lips. Seeing an unclothed Navy SEAL rise from the water like a Greek god wouldn't be the worst thing to happen to her today.

However, seeing a fin curl out of the water and then disappear again could be classified as that.

Lori's hand flitted to her mouth and her eyes widened. It wasn't a shark or dolphin fin. It was ribbed like a fish fin, but much bigger. It must've belonged to a dragon. An Amphibious one.

"Oh no," she searched the surrounding water frantically, not seeing any sign of Steve. Did he have any enemies that would attack him at home? Swimming with a concussion was a stupid idea anyway, but he would be defenseless if enough people closed in on him while he was in the water and injured.

She stepped away fearfully as a primeval head broke the surface in the shallows. Mottled teal scales glinted and glimmered in the morning light, water droplets sparkled as they dripped off three pairs of slender horns. The fin she'd seen earlier folded against the serpentine neck and a puff of vapor swirled away from the nostrils at the end of the snout. This was a big dragon. Bigger than most she had seen. All the curved teeth she could see sticking out from the upper lip could shred human flesh so easily, what if it had attacked Steve –

She looked at the discarded shirt and swim trunks again, then back at the dragon. The dots started to connect.

"Oh my god, no," she whispered. "Steve?"

She backed away into the shadows of the dense foliage lining the yard when he looked toward the shore. When he was back under the water again, she retreated to her car on the street feeling like a fool. A damn fool.

* * *

She caught Chin outside by his motorcycle in the Palace parking lot. He was the only one she had rambled to before and if she trusted anything, she trusted his ability to keep it together with what she was about to say.

"Chin, can I talk to you?" she asked.

His brows furrowed. "Lori, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," she said. At his disbelieving look she rubbed both hands down her face. "No. I'm not. Can I tell you something?"

"Sure," he said.

She paused and combed her fingers through her hair, suddenly wondering why it was so important that she tell someone. Even though every emotion in her was shaken and being torn apart, she hid it well behind a practiced and honed wooden exterior.

"Lori?"

"Steve's a dragon," she blurted.

Chin's eyes widened fractionally. Had that been the right thing to say? This team was so close to each other that it was hard for her to imagine that they didn't know already, yet at the same time it would have been so easy for them to have been kept in the dark like she had been. What would Chin and Kono think? Did Danny know? Did they know about Danny? Would they feel uncomfortable enough that they would quietly slip away or avoid being around Steve or Danny?

She stared at the ground, trying to keep the racing thoughts behind her wall. Breaking up this family was the last thing she wanted to do. She was many things, but an intentional home wrecker was not one of them.

"Did Steve tell you that, or did you find out?"

She pulled her gaze up from the ground to Chin. He wasn't surprised. "You already knew."

He didn't say anything.

She put both hands on her hips and paced by her car. "I went over there to check on him this morning and…wow."

"And you don't like dragons, do you?" his tone was even and quiet, not accusatory but there was a detectable edge there.

He was calling her out. She had shown enough of her dislike of dragons for him to notice and if he had noticed, the others had probably noticed. That may have explained why Steve's barriers had never gone down. He knew she didn't like who he was. What he was.

Lori nodded. "I don't hate dragons, but I don't trust them. They scare me and I don't like being around them."

"You didn't notice that you were on a team of them. Got along just fine with us," Chin said.

So he knew about Danny, too. If they were a team of them, that meant that she had missed Kono and Chin being dragons as well. All four of them had slipped right by her for months.

Lori stopped pacing. Her decision settled itself. "I have to quit."

"Just because you don't like our kind?" Chin questioned lowly.

"No, not just because of that," she said. She let out a breath and looked up at the canopy of the trees that shaded the parking lot. "The Governor told me to choose the State of Hawaii or Five-0. I want to serve both."

"But?"

She locked eyes with him. "But I like Steve. And I can't serve this team and the Governor with those affections in the way. And now that I know about him, I think I'd be more of a hinderance than a help."

He was silent for several stressful seconds before saying, "If that's what you feel is best, then you should resign."

Honestly? She wasn't sure what she felt.

* * *

 _Present…._

"She saw me?" Steve asked.

"That's what she said, anyway," Chin said.

Kono scowled. "Sounds like the main reason she quit was because we were dragons, despite what she said."

Steve rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. "She was acting awkward when she gave me her resignation, but I thought it was because of the whole affections for me thing."

"That also explains why she started avoiding me," Danny's hand fluttered out before coming to rest on his chest. "I was the first tip off. I thought I had something stuck in my teeth everyday or smelled. I spent weeks trying to figure out what I had said that had made her start clinging to you."

The tips of Steve's ears burned red.

"Like that would have worked out," Kono shook her head. "I can't believe that she freaked out over us being dragons."

"She could have ratted us out to the Governor, or the press when she left," Chin pointed out.

"But she didn't," Steve said.

They sat in the early afternoon sunlight and watched their fire begin to sputter out. Steve wasn't sure if he felt better or not now knowing the larger reason why Lori quit. He supposed in some sense it made him feel better. Try as she might, she may have been a part of the team, but she wasn't _ohana_.

"It's always going to be us four," he said.

"The four _amigos_ ," Kono smiled.

"There was only _tres amigos_ ," Danny held up three fingers.

"The four musketeers," Steve said.

Danny held up three fingers again. "Only three musketeers."

Chin grinned. "We're the Beatles."

Steve shrugged, Kono gave him a thumbs up, and Danny sat back in his chair with a, "Yeah, I guess I can live with that."

* * *

 **I have several versions of Lori in my head: the bland show version, a psychotic stalker/jealous version, and then what I think she was supposed to be as the Governor's informant. The one seen above is the show version with a slight flavoring of jealousy.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", a night time game of paintball gets interesting when nature itself gets involved.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following as always! You guys are all so awesome. :)**


	48. Fact 46

**Starting to wrap up their island adventures now...**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #46: Dragons are not typically considered nocturnal, but they usually fare better than humans in the dark. Usually.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

Danny had 'accidentally' shot Steve. They had vests on, of course, and he had only pegged him with a paintball, but the satisfaction of shooting him was still there. It was only fair, considering it was Steve's insane idea to play paintball in the dusky twilight. The silhouettes of trees and shrubs had increasingly started to look like people and dragons hiding in the shadows as the sun dipped below the horizon.

This was their last night on the island. Steve had wanted to teach them how to utilize their dragonish natures to help with situations in the future, but for the most part they had wound up goofing off in the water and the jungle. Swimming, fishing, sunning, playing capture the flag. The only thing that Danny had learned that might be of use in the future is how to do spirals in the air.

"Cease fire, cease fire!"

Danny rolled his eyes. Steve made it sound like there was a blitz attack of blue, yellow, red, and orange paintballs crisscrossing every which way through the dim jungle when in actuality it was relatively calm and the cousins were laughing at having shot each other in perfect synchronization.

Kono flipped her visor up and grinned. "Boss, do you know how long it's been since I've played paintball? This is awesome!"

"Too bad they don't make a paintball shotgun, huh, babe?" Danny smirked at Chin, who nodded with a wistful look.

"Did you guys make a pact or something to turn me into a piece of modern art?" Steve questioned. He took off his helmet, lifted up his arms, and did a slow turn around to show off the multicolored splotches that covered him.

Danny winked at the cousins before placing a hand on his chest. "Steven, why would you even ask that?"

Steve narrowed his eyes at them. "I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted, because we're shifting tactics now that it's getting dark."

"Let me guess, we're going to do this night stalking thing you talked about," Danny said.

"It'll be good practice," Steve said. "Okay, everyone take their gear off. Unless you can shift just your eyeballs, you're going to have to shift into dragon form."

"What about Chin?" Kono asked.

Steve smiled broadly. "He's going to be the shooter we're hunting."

* * *

It was only a game, but Danny was still on edge. The thought of knowing that someone was hiding in the trees waiting to take a shot at him, despite that person being a close friend and teammate, was unnerving and rose the crest of scales on his neck. Right now, his only hope of not getting pegged with a paintball was the fact that Steve was the taller target walking alongside him.

"How well are you guys seeing?" Steve asked as he led them deeper into the jungle.

"Well, I've stubbed my toe twice and tripped over a root," Kono mumbled.

"And Danny keeps running into me," Steve stopped abruptly, proving his statement when Danny bumped into his flank. "This is about as deep as we need to be."

"As much as I enjoy traipsing around the dense forest in the pitch dark with Chin running around with night vision goggles, three full loads of paintballs, and an itchy trigger finger, I am failing to see how this is team bonding nor training," Danny flicked his claws out, slightly startled when he smacked his partner on the shoulder. He was a lot closer than he thought he was.

"Ow, watch the claws. Dragons have better night vision than humans, but you still have to rely on other senses. Pick something, a tree or a vine, and look at it until it becomes clear," Steve said.

Danny squinted. "I can't even see anything to know where to even look."

"Put those big meaty claws in front of your face and stare at them until your eyes adjust," Steve directed.

It took a while, but eventually he could see the outlines of the undergrowth, the trees, and of Steve and Kono in their fully shifted forms. Would he go running at top speed now? No, he wasn't that confident. There was a chance, though, that he would be able to spot something or someone moving since his eyes had finally fallen into low light mode.

"Okay, so what's the plan?" he asked. "You made it sound like the goal was to not get killed by our pseudo shooter."

"We avoid getting shot, and the first one to bring in our 'suspect' wins," Steve said.

Danny's claws flicked out again. "Why does everything have to be about winning with you?"

"Hey, remember he's only human sized, okay, Boss?" Kono said. "I don't know how I'd tell the rest of the family that he got pancaked by an overly zealous dragon while we were screwing around during tactical training."

Steve snorted good naturedly and then turned tail, starting to walk off into the trees.

"Hold up, Super SEAL, if we're doing this to simulate a real life scenario, then we wouldn't split up," Danny objected.

"Yeah, remember the horror movie rule," Kono added.

Steve seemed to consider it a moment before Danny could see the outline of his head nodding. "Good point. We stay within sight of each other and we fan out."

"On it," Kono stepped off to the left.

Steve took the right side, which left Danny with the center. The jungle was both quiet and noisy. It was the kind of quiet that can only be found in nature. The kind where cricket song and a breeze in the canopy was quiet. He could hear over it fine since they weren't talking anymore. Steve slithered somewhere off to his right with barely a rustle while Kono painstakingly tried to keep her large webbed feet from making too much sound off to his left.

Whenever he had been outside in his youth and then as an adult, he always had a flashlight with him. Night vision was one thing he had never tested out. Then again, he'd never seen a need to have night vision anyway. The big city that was his original home never truly went dark unless there was a blackout. Street lamps cast halos on the ground, headlights illuminated suspects, bars glowed softly in the dark, and he always had a trusty light hooked to his hip as a patrol officer and then later on his phone and stashed in the glove compartment. It was never really dark.

A deserted Hawaiian island in the middle of a thick jungle? That was dark. The moon wouldn't rise for another hour, and even if it did, the interwoven leaves above his head would have choked out the light and thrown the undergrowth into further darkness.

 _Snap._

He paused with one foot off the ground. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kono stop, as well. Had he stepped on something? He didn't think he had. Steve had drawn to a halt up ahead with his head cocked to the side intently. There was nothing out of place. Even with superior night vision, which wasn't all that superior if he was honest, more like being out in an open field with an almost full moon, he couldn't see anything.

But boy, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a paintball exploded on his thigh.

"Left!" he barked out.

Kono and Steve charged that way. He went out and around to cut off Chin's escape, hoping that the pair would flush him his direction right into his waiting claws.

No such luck. The threesome met somewhere in the middle with confused expressions. Their suspect was a slippery one, alright. Danny lifted up his leg and craned his head around to examine the splotch of yellow, maybe orange, paint that oozed between his scales with an icky sticky sensation. It was higher up on his leg than he had initially thought.

He stomped his foot back down. "Chin's stealing the title of ninja from you, babe. I think he was in the trees right above us."

"New plan," Steve said in a whisper. "I'll go high, you guys go low."

* * *

High, low, it didn't matter to Chin. Years of stalking boars and bad guys through the Hawaiian terrain had trained him in the art of navigating between the groves of trees and clumps of undergrowth without making a sound. The night vision goggles didn't hurt, either.

Of the three dragons he was stalking, or was being stalked by, he was the most worried about Steve. The trees were massive here and once the SEAL had gone up into the lattice work of branches, he'd had a hard time tracking him. It had also driven him to stay on the ground instead of in the trees, because he knew for a fact that he was screwed if Steve spotted him on a branch. He may be quick, but not quick enough to outmaneuver an Arboreal crossbreed in his natural habitat.

He propped the barrel of his gun up on the mossy log he was hidden behind. The issue that he had was that his range was only about a hundred feet. There was an absolute need for silence in order for him to get close enough to make a shot and yet leave enough space to make his stealthy departure afterwards.

How high Danny had jumped earlier almost had him break his cover with a laugh. He idly wondered what his cousin was going to do as he sighted her in.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose half a second before the ground disappeared from beneath him and he dropped into the blackest darkness he'd ever encountered.

* * *

Danny's head jerked up at the odd sound. What was that? He strained to hear it again, but it was quiet now, replaced by the chirping of crickets and the shuffling of leaves overhead. It had been a low noise. An earthy groan. Kono kept on walking off to his left, oblivious to whatever it had been. Maybe it was his nerves getting the better of him. Despite having lived on Oahu for three years and having trekked into the jungle numerous times, he would never get the feel of it, what was natural and what didn't belong.

He turned and angled himself to the right slightly. That seemed to be the direction the sound had come from. Cautiously treading and making broad sweeps every other step, he started to frown.

"I swear, Chin Ho, if you shoot me again, I'll show you how we get revenge Jersey style," he muttered under his breath.

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

Danny's brows went up. He swore that whistle had come from the ground behind the log in front of him. Steve called out from up in the trees in question of who had whistled and Kono sounded off that it hadn't been her. Danny stood on top of the log, looking all around until his eyes finally landed on a black circle in the ground.

"Chin?" he asked hesitantly.

"I'm in the hole."

Danny stepped down and immediately regretted it. There was another earthy groan like before. He cursed incoherently as his front foot disappeared into the ground and was quickly followed by his other foot. With a thump, his chest hit the ground and more dirt gave way around him. His wings flapped around madly until he was able to brace one on the living tree next to the log and he managed to dig his hind claws into the rotting wood to keep from falling all the way into the deep, dark void that had opened up.

"You okay, brah?"

"What did you do? Find a portal to another dimension?" Danny asked.

His forelegs dangled in empty space and all the blood rushed to his head. It was blacker than black, and he was sure no amount of night vision would let him see. It smelled damp and a bit like decomposing vegetation.

He grunted. Moving was going to be a challenge. The position he was in was precarious and if he tried to slide the other way off the log, he may lose his balance and fall in the hole.

A thundering of footsteps came barreling towards him.

"Danny! Danny, what's wrong? What're you–"

"Woah, woah, Steve! Stop!" Danny yelled. All they needed was another member of the team vanishing into the ground. "Don't fall in, too, you Neanderthal. I'm not dragging your stupid boneheaded self out of the abyss."

The crunching of undergrowth signaled their slowing approach. The log wobbled and Danny nearly lost his footing.

"Don't dump me down here, too, you putz!" he snapped.

"Okay, okay, hold on. Kono, grab his other wing. On three, pull."

Danny felt webbed feet grab the muscular shoulder joint on each wing. He backed out of the hole on the count of three and with the help of his teammates, was able to collapse back on solid ground on the other side of the log.

"Chin?" Kono peered over into the even wider dark opening.

"Remember when Uncle Haku told us about the story of the ground eating him and we always thought he was exaggerating?"

"Yeah?"

"He wasn't."

Danny gathered his feet under him, joining Steve in leaning over the log to scope out the situation.

"There must've been some tree roots that rotted away over the years," Steve said. "They left the ground hollow."

"I've never seen a hollow this big left behind," Chin's disembodied voice floated up out of the ground.

"You okay, cuz?" Kono asked.

"Yeah. It knocked the wind out of me, but I'm fine. It's only about ten feet deep."

Danny glanced at Steve. "Wouldn't happen to have some rope with you, huh, Commander Boy Scout?"

"Where would I put a rope?" Steve asked. He pivoted and sat his butt on the log, draping his tail into the hollow. "Chin, grab a hold of my tail and hang on."

"Right. Who needs a rope when you have a freakishly long tail," Danny said.

Steve used himself as a counterweight to lift Chin high enough for Danny to offer him a claw to help drag himself up over the log and out of the way of the crumbling jungle floor. Kono hugged him close in an awkward tangle of limbs before letting him have enough space to dust himself off.

"The gun and the goggles are still down there," Chin said and pointed his thumb at the hole.

Steve shook his head as he gave the gaping black void another look. "We'll come back for them in the morning when we can actually see. Who knows how much area this hollow covers."

"And I, for one, am not going to willing spend the rest of the night underground with millions of tons of dirt and trees all around me," Danny said.

They followed their leader towards their campsite, talking and laughing about the weirdness that had happened.

"Only us," Kono said.

"No disagreement from me," Danny said. "Only one of us would fall down a hole like that."

"I think this team's cursed," she joked.

"Hey," Chin said. Even though they couldn't see it properly, they could hear the grin. "Anyone could fall down a hole. Only one of us would have a team there in a split second ready to pull us out."

* * *

 **Yep. Dragons are about as graceful in the dark as a...moth. Steve's been trained, so he's more like a cat. But the others? Definitely moths.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", Steve and Danny recall a particular encounter with Doris just after she had returned to the island. Gift chapter for Whitelion69.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, and faving! I am excited to start bringing you guys some more action/plot oriented chapters here soon sometime in May. Hopefully, maybe, another one or two unrelated Five-0 projects will debut as well.**


	49. Fact 47

**This is the chapter that WhiteLion69 requested as their prize for getting the 250th review.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #47: Secrets amongst families are not healthy.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

"No, no, only half of the Williams kids are dragons, the other two are mixed bloods," Danny said.

Sitting around the fire and enjoying their last night on the island, they had somehow managed to get on the topic of their siblings and parents. Chin and Kono, of course, came from massive families where humans, mixed bloods, and full blooded dragons were abundant on both sides. Danny was in the midst of explaining his immediate family's types.

"Matty and Stella are the mixed bloods. Matty was so disappointed that he couldn't shift like I could," Danny grinned sadly. The other three didn't mention much more about his missing brother. "Stella, on the other hand, was kind of relieved, I think."

"Yeah," Steve nodded and leaned back in his camp chair, crossing one ankle over his knee. "Mary was pretty stoked when she first shifted, and then was mad at me because I was still bigger than her."

Chin sat forward with his elbows on his knees. "Your dad was an Amphibian, right?"

"He told you?" Steve asked.

Chin chuckled. "More like I guessed after he saved my ass from drowning during a foot chase on the docks one time."

Steve smiled at the thought of his old man forgoing his own safety to save a young rookie.

"So, if your dad was an Amphibian, the Arboreal came from your mom's side, then, right?" Kono asked.

He frowned at the mention of Doris. "That's what I always assumed."

Kono's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Danny's hands gestured at him. "He means, good ole mother dearest wasn't and still isn't the easiest to get to know."

* * *

 _2012…._

Doris McGarrett was something else, that was for sure. Danny didn't have a particular fondness for her, and if he was reading his partner's face correctly, he didn't, either. The whole disappearing for twenty-some years, returning, disappearing again, and returning again had put a sour taste in his mouth.

He also wanted to kick himself for forgetting that she was living at Steve's house for the time being. As soon as he let himself in with the key he still had from crashing at Steve's place, she was standing right there at the bottom of the stairs strung tighter than a piano string.

"Williams," she greeted.

"Doris," he mimicked her tone. He shut the door behind him and glanced around.

"Can I help you?" she asked and crossed her arms over her chest.

Danny put his hands into his pockets. "Steve said that he thought he had an old flowerbox that Grace could have. And don't tell me I missed him, his truck is parked out front."

Doris narrowed her eyes at him. He may have been purposely antagonizing her, but they hadn't gotten off on the right foot from the very beginning and it was easy to ruffle her feathers. Unfortunately, she was good at ruffling his, too.

"I think I know which flowerbox he's talking about. You can wait here and I'll go get it out of the garage," she said.

"Fine," he shrugged his shoulders and started to walk toward the lanai at the back of the house.

"Where are you going?"

"To talk to Steve."

"He's–"

"Swimming. It's Sunday afternoon. Super SEAL varies very little from his routine, but I guess you wouldn't know that," he said with a mirthless grin.

Her brows went up. "He's my son. I know him. And who gave you the right to just march on in here whenever you want?"

"I have a key, which your son gave me when he let me stay here when my housing arrangement was, ah, up in the air, so to speak," he waved a hand at the interior of the house and rested the other on the lanai door knob. "Besides, I don't think you have much of a say of what goes on in this house, seeing as you've been dead for twenty years."

Had Danny been alone in the house with her, he might have feared for his life at the stone cold and yet apocalyptic look she gave him. He made his retreat through the backdoor and down into the yard, already half way across the grass when he heard her follow him. Squaring his shoulders, he waited for her to light into him or to slug him across the face. For all he knew, she might pull some shady ninja crap on him.

Fortunately for him, there was a splash on the beach and a fully shifted Steve slogged onto the shore.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Doris watching him carefully. Or was that…apprehensively? Why would she be…? A light bulb lit up above his head. She didn't know that he already knew about Steve being a dragon. She had been trying to keep him out of the backyard so that he wouldn't see her son decked out in scales.

"Hey, Danny!" Steve trotted up to them all dripping wet. "You sure you don't want to go for a swim? Water's nice right now."

"No way, babe, won't catch me swimming when a storm's rolling in," Danny lifted a hand heavenward in a gesture to the gray ceiling of clouds above them. "So, you, uh, have that flowerbox thing or what?"

"Yeah, let me towel off and I'll go dig it out of the garage," Steve said. He snagged a towel off the back of one of the Adirondack chairs and headed for the house, smoothly shifting back into human form and covering up with his towel.

"Huh," Danny muttered to himself. He then added to Doris, "You know, your son's a caveman with no respect for laws of civility and will usually streak right by me when he's shifting, but I guess he covered up because he doesn't want his mom to see him in the nude. Not that I'm complaining that he decided to cover up today, it's a once in the blue moon thing that he saves my eyes from needing bleach."

He left her staring incredulously after him as he walked toward the house.

* * *

Doris had a particular feeling about that Danny Williams. She didn't really like him, but had a grudging respect for his gumption and zero filter nature. Then again, that's what she disliked about him. How could he have the gall to talk to her about not having any say over the goings on in the house? And the way he implied that he knew Steve better than her made her hot under the collar. She was his mother, for Pete's sake. She knew him. Or at least, she should.

Steve closed the front door after having a lengthy discussion over something extremely petty with Danny. She was waiting for him.

"So, you let him just walk right on in the house?" she asked.

He walked by her into the kitchen. "I don't know why he does that. He'd walk in on me and tell me that he knocked, which I know he didn't."

"He told me you let him stay here before and that you gave him a key," she said, following him into the kitchen.

Steve furrowed his brows at her. "He's extremely picky about his living arrangements and couldn't settle on a place, so I let him crash here for a couple of weeks. What's it to you, Doris?"

A tiny part of her chest clenched at the fact that he still refused to call her mom. "He's just a bit prickly is all. And I didn't know that he knew about you being a dragon. What happened to what I taught you?"

"I became a Navy SEAL," he said lowly. "When you're a dragon in the SEALs, you have to learn to trust your team."

"And you trust him?" she asked, but even she knew it was weak. It had already started to dawn on her that this was not the teenager she left behind and that he had moved on without her.

He didn't need to answer. The look on his face was enough. "With my life. I trust my team with my life and with my secrets, but especially Danny."

Doris nodded and stared at the floor with her hands on her hips. That man was someone she never would have imagined would be as close to her son as he was. Closer than his own mother was, apparently. Like a brother.

"Hell, I don't even know what type of dragon _you_ are."

She looked up sharply. "What?"

"You. I knew Dad was an Amphibian, because he was the one that taught me how to swim," he said. "And Mary, she's got the webbed feet, but she's got something different than Arboreal in her."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Steve, that's ridiculous. I shifted around you."

He shook his head.

"I did," she said. A sinking feeling erupted in her gut. Was he telling the truth? Deep down, she knew the answer.

"No, you didn't."

* * *

It had been a long Monday. Steve kicked off his shoes at the front door and tossed his truck keys onto the coffee table. He glanced up the stairs, mulling over the want to take a shower as it battled for want of a swim. The afternoon was sunny and warm, unlike yesterday, making it perfect conditions for a quick dip. He wasn't even sure why he had debated over it in the first place.

He peeled his shirt over his head on the way to the shoreline and tossed it onto one of the Adirondacks. A flicker of movement at the edge of the yard stopped him cold.

Out of the shade of the dense foliage came a dragon. Full of mossy greens and teals, she was long bodied with slender branched horns sweeping back from a primeval face. Smooth rounded snake scales shimmered in the rays of sun as did a small finned crest that ran from the base of her skull to her shoulders. Muscular legs with slender tree climbing toes and hooked claws told him of an Arboreal lineage while the rest spoke to a Serpent one. The copper eyes, though, were a dead giveaway no matter the type.

"Doris?" he questioned, still tense just in case he was mistaken.

She nodded slowly. "Last night, I went through every single thing I did and kept from you and Mary and…Steve, I'm sorry."

He relaxed his shoulders in the slightest. "Why didn't you tell us before?"

"The CIA drills it into you that shifting is a last resort. It's your ace in the hole, the last trick up your sleeve," she said hollowly, as if she didn't wholly believe it to be a valid excuse. "You were such a natural shifter and your father was such a good teacher, I never even…I don't know, Stevie. My life is full of secrets, but this should've never been one of them."

Steve snorted through his nose at the use of the nickname, but accepted it for what it was. An attempt at an apology. He rubbed a hand up the back of his neck awkwardly. "I was going to go for a swim. Want to come?"

Doris cracked a sliver of a grin. "That would be nice."

He smirked as she turned her head away from him, waiting for him to strip and shift. He did so and trudged out into the water with her on his tail. "I swim kind of fast, so try and keep up, okay?"

"Hey, you squirt, you better not be calling me an old lady," Doris chuckled. She gave him a look with a competitive gleam in her eye and then plunged under the waves faster than he could blink.

He growled. "Oh, you are so on, Mom."

* * *

 **I'm iffy on Doris. Don't really like her, don't really hate her. At least she had a personality, unlike Lori. Your views on her?**

 **Next week on "Dragons", they wrap up their island adventures. Before they leave, Chin and Danny mess around on the beach and wind up trying to take to the sky.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! Love you guys. :)**


	50. Fact 48

**Last adventure on the island. Was fun while it lasted.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #48: Flying is really not for the faint of heart.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 3**

Late that night after they had returned from stalking around in the jungle, rescuing Chin out of the hole in the ground, and discussing his mother, Steve lay awake in his tent with his arms tucked behind his head. This was their last night on the island. They would have to pack up in the morning and leave around noon so they could make it back to Oahu before dark. There were so many things he had wanted to do while they were here that they hadn't done, yet he had accomplished the one thing that he needed to do: get his team to unwind.

A rustle outside of the thin tent walls had him sitting up. Maybe the team wasn't as unwound as he had hoped.

He unzipped the flap and peered out, expecting to see his partner wandering away toward the beach again to contemplate his recent kidnapping and the lives of the others rescued off the boats. What he saw instead made him crack a smile. Danny was still nestled in his hammock with no sign of his wings. The hammock gently rocked back and forth like he had just rolled over.

With a satisfied nod, Steve zipped up the flap and cozied down into his sleeping bag.

* * *

It was a known fact that Danny wasn't a morning person. His insomnia kept him from getting a solid night's sleep and when the deep sleep finally did roll around it had the impeccable timing of coming an hour before he needed to get up to get ready for work. Last night had not been one of those nights.

Steve and Kono had already disappeared to collect the goggles and paintball gun deep in the jungle by the time he convinced himself to get up out of the hammock. Chin was barely getting the fire going when Danny headed for the beach.

The soft sand was already warm under his feet and sunlight shined on his back. He inhaled the salty breeze, smiling. It may have taken him moving to Hawaii to get near the ocean again and he may still object to the fierce creatures and inherent dangers and to the sand that got absolutely everywhere, but there was a soothing quality that he didn't find anywhere else. Not that he would tell Steve that. Despite that, the waves crashing through the night was not the kind of white noise he enjoyed.

But here, in the sparkling daylight, when the water was calmly painted with turquoises and sapphires and only his feet were in the sand, it was beautiful. He was almost sad that they had to leave today. Well, he grimaced as he ran his fingers through his stiff and grimy hair, he was looking forward to an hour long hot shower.

He pulled the light sweatshirt he'd slept in over his head, taking the time to grow his wings to the fullest he could without fully shifting. The rich marbled cinnamons, umbers, and golds absorbed the rays of sun like built in solar panels, raising his body to a temperature that was just about right.

A wolf whistle sounded out behind him. "Hey, brah, look at those colors."

"I thought you were supposed to be cooking breakfast?" Danny asked as Chin trekked over the sand toward him.

"It'll be a while before Steve and Kono get back. Figured I'd wait so the food doesn't get cold," Chin said.

Danny's hand flicked out to gesture between the two of them. "You're a much kinder man than me, my friend. I'd eat and then make them fend for themselves when they get back."

Chin chuckled. They shared a comfortable silence as they watched the sunlight play on the water as it steadily rose over the ridge of the island and chased the cool of the night away. One of the large wings sprouting from Danny's back twitched in response to a light breeze and Chin settled his gaze back on them again. He held his hand out to him.

Danny looked at his hand and then at his face, hesitantly accepting the handshake. "You're not going to walk fifty paces that way and then turn and shoot me, are you, babe?"

"No," Chin shook his head and then gave a meaningful nod at his wings. "I never formally thanked you for saving Kono's life that day."

"Ah, well, you know, couldn't let our favorite rookie become a smudge on the ground," Danny waved it off.

Chin didn't press the matter further, instead he looked at the canyon colored wings again. "Can you fly like this?"

Danny laughed. "I barely got Kono and myself to the ground safely just gliding. A human's upright build is not conducive to flying, as I have discovered and as our personal aeronautics engineer Steve has told me."

"Uncle Haku used to say that nature was a curious thing," Chin said.

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "Especially when it came to wings. More specifically, when it came to wings on chickens."

"I don't know, you put some batter on them and throw them in the deep fryer and there you go, the reason why chickens have wings," Danny said.

They both laughed.

Chin wiped a tear from his eye, and Danny concluded that the pair of them were too tired to have laughed that hard at his lame joke. Despite that, he was feeling pretty good. He'd even slept good. And being as that was, he felt a little playful.

"Hey, you want to see something?" he asked.

Chin furrowed his brows at him, but the humor and laugh lines lingered on his face. "Sure."

Danny motioned for him to turn around so he could shed his shorts, because he maintained himself to a certain standard of society that didn't appreciate being flashed without warning, and shifted with smooth and fluid movements. He stretched like a cat once the last of the scales had appeared.

"If you wanted me to see your yoga, then I have a cousin that could probably teach you a few moves," Chin said.

"Haha," Danny bared his teeth in a pseudo grin at him. "You're a regular comedian, you know that?"

"Like I told you before, I'll be here all week," Chin said with a real grin.

"I guess if life in Five-0 ever permanently disfigures you, you could go on the road with your little show, tell them about how you used to work for a caveman," Danny said. He curled his wings tightly against his sides and rolled his shoulders. "Tell Steve I can do this and I guarantee you that you'll need to sleep with one eye open for the rest of your life, okay?"

Chin made a zipping motion across his mouth and flicked away an invisible key.

Danny smirked at him. He abruptly dropped into a crouch, tucking his head between his front legs and bringing his hind feet up as close to his face as he possibly could. His crocodilian tail wrapped up under him, his wings clasped around his sides, and his scales flared out threateningly.

"Look at that. The pinecone armadillo," Chin said. He walked closer and tapped his knuckles on the armored tail. "I didn't know dragons could do that."

"I think it's a smaller animal thing so that predators can't chomp down on them so easily," Danny's muffled voice came from somewhere in the scaly ball. "Which is why I don't understand why I can do it. What the hell's going to try to chomp on me, huh? Godzilla? I think if there's something around that's big enough for me to worry about, whether or not I'm able to roll into a ball is going to be the least of my concerns."

Chin stepped back as he unfolded his limbs and stood on all fours. Danny shook his wings out, flexing the fingerbones and the membrane that stretched between them.

"Could be a throwback," Chin shrugged one shoulder. "You know how those things are."

Danny snorted. "It still boggles my mind that things even bigger than dragons walked around millions of years ago. I mean, there were flying things even bigger than dragons with wingspans larger than the common Wyvern's wingspan! How did they even get up off the ground, huh?"

Chin eyed him, a smile slowly starting to tug at his lips. "If they could take off from the ground, I bet you could figure it out, too."

"Are you offering to teach me to fly now? No offense, babe, but you're even less qualified than Steve," Danny flicked a set of claws out at him. He cast a glance over his shoulder toward the jungle, scanning the tree line with narrowed pale blue eyes. He threw a smirk back at Chin. "Don't tell Super SEAL."

Chin gave him a thumbs up. "It'll stay between you and me, brah. Have you ever tried to take off from the ground?"

"When I was just a young dope, maybe around nine or ten years old," Danny said. "Couldn't do it. Don't think my wings were big enough yet."

"Hawks kind of throw themselves into the air on the down flap," Chin said and pointed at one of his wings. "Flying mechanics aren't really my thing, but it's worth a shot."

Having not tried to do a take off from a standing position in years, decades in fact, Danny hesitantly spread his wings to their max. The morning sun flickered off the gold flecks in his scales, but warmly danced across the rest of the earthy tones in a more muted fashion. He brought his wings up almost vertical and leapt into the air, thrusting them down as he did.

The gust of wind it created had Chin shielding his eyes from bits of flying sand. He only removed his hand when Danny thumped to the ground heavily.

"You know how kids jump off the back of the couch and think that they can fly?" Danny asked. "That's about how successful that felt."

Chin set his hands on his hips with a thoughtful look on his face. He hummed and arched one brow. "When we were chasing Duncan, did you notice how he landed and took off?"

"Of course. He'd come in at a hundred miles in hour like a maniac and hit the side of a building, sending glass everywhere like he was some kind of wrecking ball, and then he'd drop off and resume pursuing us like nothing had happened at all," Danny said, sweeping his claws this way and that to illustrate.

"No, when he was on the ground. After he had lit up that second building," Chin said. "Wyverns don't have another set of forelegs, they use their wings for walking around on the ground."

"And they look goofy while doing it."

"But he would stand up on his hind legs when he was getting ready to take off, and he'd land hind feet first," Chin said. He held out a hand palm up. "Doesn't hurt to try."

"Why do I have the feeling that everyone just wants me to get in the air so they can go for a ride?" Danny asked, but he was already shifting his weight back to his big hind feet while using his tail as a balance.

"If you don't want to try it, don't. I'm not forcing you," Chin said. He then added, "If you did learn how to take off from a stand still, though, just imagine Steve's face."

A smile cracked his snout. "The animal would be flabbergasted that us mere mortals don't always have to have him teach us new tricks. We can manage by ourselves."

"I think, somewhere, Steve just twitched," Chin quoted.

Danny chuckled and spread his wings again. It was a bit of an awkward position to be in, with his chest and muscled shoulders being up off the ground, but he was going to make it work. He sprung himself into the air and snapped his wings downward. He was aloft.

Without having to think he repeated the movement and gained another few feet in altitude, except he was going backwards. Another flap sent him faster that direction. Concluding it was the angle his wings were at, he tilted them and dropped lower. The strange still semi-upright position had him staggering and his hind feet touched the sand to allow for a gentler landing than what he had yesterday.

When the rush of air being pushed around by his wings ceased, he heard Chin's laughter. "What is the matter with you? Was it that bad?"

Chin walked across the sand towards him. "It looked like a mime lassoed you and was dragging you backwards."

He frowned as he tried to conjure up what that would have look liked.

"Hey, you were actually in the air that time," Chin sobered and patted him on the shoulder. "It's a start."

"Maybe I should just stick to gliding for now, huh?" Danny held up a trembling wing. Adrenaline did him no good when it came to flying. He pivoted to look up at the lookout point higher above the beach. "You want to go for a glide? I mean, if you don't want to, you don't have to, seeing as you can't fly or even glide at all, but–"

Chin nodded. "Yeah. I trust you, Danny."

* * *

Chin crouched, holding onto his friend's neck with his hands and clenching with his knees. Danny was getting a running start since the lookout point wasn't as high as the ridge. If he could just hang on until they were airborne, he'd be fine.

His wings billowed out on either side when they went over the edge. Chin had never been to a place like Moab or Zion Park or Antelope Canyon, but he appreciated the built-in camouflage. Up against a canyon wall, the swirled and broken pattern would render any dragon almost invisible. Of course, over the turquoise Pacific Ocean, the slabs of marbled wings stuck out like sore thumbs, making them easy to spot.

Danny canted his right wing up and the left down, guiding them so they were flying parallel to the shore over the shallows.

Chin looked up from their low cruising altitude just over the waves. Feeling like a gunner in WWII on the back of one of the Wyverns of the Sky Devils Squadron, he searched the clear sky around them. The hairs on his arms had stood up, and not from the cool breeze whipping off the ocean below them.

A shadow swept over them.

"Left, left," he instructed coolly, doing his best not to alarm Danny.

Danny must've sensed him tense up, but obediently tipped his wings and jerked them left. Chin once again tipped his head up as they evened out. Something was above them doing spirals in the thermals starting to form above the water. The sun was too bright to properly see what the shadow was. All Chin could tell was its direction.

"Right," he tapped his right heel against his shoulder.

"Do I even want to know what's following us?" Danny asked and banked right.

Chin had an idea as the shadow came diving at them at high speed. "Easy, easy. On my count, pull up. One…."

"Wait, what?"

"Two…."

"I can't! I don't know how–"

"Three!"

Danny pulled his wings into an upward angle and flapped, trying to keep himself in place as the shadow missed them by a hair's breadth and plunged into the water with a yell. Unable to figure out how to either hover or get going again, Danny splashed down.

Chin floated off his shoulders and grabbed onto his wing while they bobbed in the waves. Being as close to shore as they were, Danny was able to anchor his hind feet in the sandy bottom and wait with a scowl on his face.

"You going to drown him or am I going to have to?" Chin asked.

"Oh no. It'll be my pleasure. You can get that cousin of yours, I'm sure she's not totally innocent in this whole stunt," Danny growled.

Chin agreed and kept his face straight. He was irritated with the other two for interfering.

Danny lunged and pulled a slender head up by a horn. Steve thrashed in the water, reaching around to grab at Danny's face and try to dislodge himself from the vice like grip of the half-beaked jaws clutching him.

"Danny–" he sucked in some water and coughed. "Let go!"

Danny grumbled. He perked a brow at Chin, willing him to read his mind. Luckily for them, the team had developed a habit of being able to discern each other's thoughts from just a look, though the lead pair of Five-0 were the most adept at. Chin, however, understood this look perfectly.

"I think he wants you to say 'uncle'," Chin said.

"What? No way–" more spluttering and coughing. For an Amphibious dragon, he wasn't doing very well. "Why do I–"

Danny grunted several syllables and made more expressions at Chin.

"For being a Neanderthal," he interpreted. His forehead crinkled as he tried to decipher the next series of grunts and expressions. "And for not behaving like a normal person. What happened to…wave etiquette?"

Steve sighed a bunch of bubbles out of his nose. "I told you, you don't just say, 'Hey, buddy, comin' down on your–'"

Danny dunked him to cut off his rebuttal.

"You know, cuz, I can tell that you're right behind us," Chin said.

"How the hell could you tell?"

Chin looked over his shoulder at her and winked. Kono huffed, smoothly paddled over by them, and watched the dunking go on.

"Woah. Just for, uh, your information, Danny, I had nothing to do with this," Kono held her webbed front feet up in innocence.

"Okay, okay!" Steve gasped once he was above the water again. "Uncle! Uncle! I'm sorry, okay? Quit trying to drown me."

Danny let him go and inhaled deeply. "Some Super SEAL you are, you were underwater for barely a minute."

"You didn't let me get a good breath before shoving me under!" Steve objected. He prodded at the horn Danny had gotten a hold of between his teeth. "For someone who always calls me an animal, you've got a mean bite. You sure you're not part crocodile with that whole trying to drown me move?"

"What were you thinking?" Danny changed the subject. His claws erupted out of the water in a wild gesture. "Coming up on us like that, huh? We were just out enjoying ourselves without any insanity from you, and you divebomb us! What was going through your thick skull?"

"I was thinking that you went flying without your teacher," Steve defended.

Danny looked at Chin knowingly. "See? What'd I tell you? Can't handle the thought that us mere mortals can do stuff without him."

Steve frowned at the grin the two of them shared. He sat back in the water lazily with his gliding wings flared out to the sides. "Those were some nice maneuvers there, Danno."

"Yeah, brah, I told him not to go diving for you," Kono said and pointed at Steve. "I knew that Chin wasn't going to let us get close to you."

"He's a regular old gunner," Steve said.

"He's a pretty good teacher and friend, too," Danny said and bumped knuckles with him.

"I guess we can keep him around, then," Steve smirked at Chin.

Chin's brows went up and he smiled. "If you guys think that you could manage a full week without me, then you're dreaming."

"The offices would probably burn down," Kono agreed.

The four of them laughed and shared friendly grins with each other. Danny was the first to quiet down, sighing almost sadly.

"I think I'm going to miss this place," he said. "Don't get me wrong, I'll be happy to see a shower again, but it's been…."

"Fun," Kono said.

"Healing," Chin said.

"Relaxing?" Steve suggested.

Danny let his shoulders droop and released the tension in his neck. "Yeah. All of that."

* * *

 **We had fun on the island, but quite honestly, I'm ready to get their butts back to Oahu and tackle some more cases and different kinds of hijinks.**

 **There is artwork for this chapter. Sorry it's been a while since I've added anything new to the page. Also, we're all going to pretend that the person sitting on Danny's back is Chin and we're going to ignore my poor skills at rendering likenesses. ;)**

 **Next week on "Dragons", A is for Apex, B is for Boiling, C is for Cuisine, etc. Oh yeah, I went there. It's an alphabet chapter that spans seasons 1-3 and is composed of pretty much everything from humor to cases to fluff to bantering and possibly some whump.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, and faving!**


	51. Fact 49

**Boom. Alphabet soup for the dragon's soul. Or something. Some of my alliteration is just plain ridiculous in these. XD**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #49: Dragon alphabet soup is best enjoyed in the company of friends.**

 **Season: 1-3**

 _ **A is for Apex**_

"Look at me, Danny. Does it look like I'm scared of anything? I'm an apex predator, like a T-Rex."

"And riddle me this, Steven, where is the almighty Tyrannosaur today? Have you seen him ambling down the streets, people bowing and awing in his wake? No? That's because even though he was an apex predator, he still got annihilated!"

"Why are you so against this?"

"Why? Because one day, there's going to be an even bigger apex predator that you, Mr. Apex-aquatic-action-man, won't be able to apprehend. Lions still get axed by other lions. Circle of life, babe."

"But you admit that dragons are apex predators."

"Yes."

"Then why did this conversation start?"

"Because you're an archaic Neanderthal."

 _ **B is for Boiling**_

Danny blatantly stared at Steve. Both of them were working, barely, in his office at the Palace. Long days, bad hours, and bad coffee had buried their resolve to push through and finish their reports. Now, Danny was watching as steam literally came out of his partner's nose.

"Can I help you?" Steve raised a brow at him, turning to look away from his computer.

Danny blew out a breath. "What is it with you and the steam? You were doing that back when the tunnel fell in on you."

Steve blinked slowly. "Steam?"

"Yeah, you know, that constant trail of vapor blowing out of your nose when you exhale? I thought that Amphibians and Arboreals didn't have chambers like that."

Steve wiped his bleary eyes and sat back. "Boiling chamber. Some Amphibians have it, but you find it in Arboreals more."

Danny's head bobbed. "So you, what? Swallow water and then boil it away into steam? What's the point of that?"

"What's the point of baking a piece of wood until it smokes?"

"Touché."

"It's a bad habit."

"Bad habit? How?"

"If I do it with saltwater I get mineral build up on my teeth."

"Regular old tea kettle, huh?"

"Something like that."

 _ **C is for Cuisine**_

"Nuh uh, no way, count me out. I do not trust whatever that is one bit," Danny shooed Steve away.

"Come on, man, it's really good," Steve cupped the small bowl in his hand and offered it to him again.

Danny couldn't help it. "What is it?"

His fears were confirmed when Steve held up a hand to the cute Chilean chef behind the cedarwood bar counter so she couldn't answer. She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you see, that right there gives me zero confidence that this isn't some kind of insect or something equally gross," Danny said.

"Can't stop eating it once you try it," Steve put the bowl to his lips and slurped whatever it was down.

"Hey, brah, you guys get some chow?"

Chin and Kono wandered up to them from off of a path that cut away from the main comings and goings of the dragon market. Chin had a small bowl in his hand and Kono had what looked like a Chinese takeout box.

"Danny here doesn't seem to comprehend what fine cuisine is," Steve set the bowl down and thanked the young chef.

"I know what fine cuisine is. The Italian place a block away from my old precinct was a prime example. This is some crazy concoction that only you, you who has an iron stomach, could actually manage to chew. No offense to you, babe."

The chef smiled charmingly. "None taken. But, you don't really chew this dish."

Danny cringed while the others snickered.

"Here, try mine," Kono planted her chopsticks in the noodles and handed the box to him.

Danny scooped a few noodles and meat into his mouth, chewing slowly. He nodded and handed the box back over to Kono. "The noodles and the sauce taste normal enough, but the meat isn't chicken, is it? I knew it! I can see it all over your faces. What was it?"

"Crocodile," Kono grinned.

Chin offered his bowl. "You can finish mine off, brah. This one really is just chicken and rice."

Considering his options, because they needed to get going back on their case, he accepted the bowl. He was the only one that hadn't come up with something to eat yet, and he was half-starved. He had to concede that he couldn't afford to be so picky anymore.

A fork full of chicken and rice was already in his mouth when the chef behind them clasped her hands together and did a little bow. "My condolences, _amigo_."

The explosion of spice in his mouth caused a tear to slide down his cheek. Swallowing, he coughed and caught Chin with a severe expression. "You guys suck."

Chin laughed. "But it's good, right?"

Through the tears that were continuing to pour from his eyes, he had to confess that it was indeed some of the best tasting curry he had ever eaten. Fine cuisine indeed.

 _ **D is for Dagger**_

"Dragons, during the Dark Ages at least, were despised by many people," David, the same curator for the Mo'o Hall at the Bishop Museum from when Grace's class had toured it, said with a gesture at the partially destroyed tapestry protected behind a glass display.

"Is there anything from during the Egyptian times?" Steve asked. He spared the dangling fabric a brief glance and scowled at the slain dragon that was still visible.

David directed them to follow him to another exhibit. "There were many serpent gods and goddesses associated with Egyptian mythology. A few accounts tell of legged serpents walking among men and it is believed those may have been dragons."

"And this definitely doesn't look familiar to you?" Danny held his phone up again.

David carefully stared at the dagger on the screen before shaking his head. "It's not part of any dragon history that I know of, but you're right, it does have an Egyptian vibe to it with the scarab on its hilt. I, however, think that it's not an artifact, but a Frankenstein's monster."

"What makes you say that?" Danny asked.

"It shows disregard to cultural continuity," David came to a stop at another display case. "You see these daggers? They're called kris. These ones here are all from Indonesia."

Danny and Steve both leaned over and examined the daggers inside the case. Most of them looked decorative, but a few looked like they had been used daily in various activities with their nicks and dings.

"Though that dagger has a scarab displayed on its hilt, it more closely resembles these," David said. "They're very distinctive with their wavy blades."

Steve stepped back. "But why use an Indonesian dagger? Most of the Asian cultures deemed dragons as gods and good luck charms. They revered them."

"No disagreements here, which is why I am highly confused," David looked between the both of them. "What did you say this dagger was used for?"

Danny sighed and let one hand dance out. "A dimwit sacrificed a mixed blood to some deity that we can't figure out and left a disturbing note about dragons being despots and destroying humanity and other crazy talk."

David's face drained of color. "That's awful. To defile such rich cultural customs by using a lookalike dagger to murder someone, someone that these cultures would have held in high esteem, that's…that's…"

"Deplorable. Despicable. Delusional," Danny listed.

"Yeah, that," David agreed. "I wish I could help you gentlemen more, but I can't give you a definite answer as to any rituals or customs that would match this crime. It's barbaric. It's closer to the Dark Ages than anything else."

"Definitely," Danny said. He shook David's hand before he and Steve departed. "Thanks for the help."

"Anything, Detective. Commander," David nodded. "Please, just catch this deranged lunatic."

 _ **E is for Era**_

"And then, she explained that the Era of the Dragon was over," Grace said.

"Exactly who was this, again?" Danny asked.

"Ms. Ellingham, Lana's mom. She came in today to talk to the class because we're studying about eras and she works at the natural history museum," she said. "She showed us this extremely cool fossilized egg."

That elicited a confused expression from Danny. "I thought you said you were examining dragons, not dinosaurs?"

"Both, I guess. Ms. Ellingham said that the Era of the Dragons started after the Era of the Dinosaurs, and then lasted until the Dark Ages," she expounded.

"Huh," Danny eyed his daughter sitting on the couch in his office at the Palace.

"What?" she asked.

"I just thought that when an era ended it meant that whatever it was had died out," he said. "Like the Era of the Dinosaurs ended when they all died."

"And dragons aren't all dead," she nodded seriously. "I thought it was kind of weird, too."

They grinned at each other as her stomach rumbled.

"How about the Era of the Pizza starts now?" she suggested.

Danny laughed. "Excellent choice."

 _ **F is for Flight**_

Forgiven or unforgiven. Cursed or blessed. Flightless, forsaken, and far too alone. Flat lined by his own foibles. For the last few months, he had been thinking. Pondering. Mentally fingering through his failures. Failures as a man. Failures as a husband. Failures as a father.

Forging ahead through his mental fog, he wondered whether his incarceration was forgiving or not. The physical fetters kept him, forced him, to fall back on the natural ebb and flow of life. Flight had been torn away from him. Forever gone, never to return, not after the elevator car had severed his wing.

Duncan's brows furrowed. Precariously perched on a metal fixture in the upper half of his cell, he sat in human form and flipped through the pages of the book of his life.

"The fables of dragons lie," he murmured with his deep and refined voice. "Fantastically fierce beasts that can never be faulted or found guilty of their sins or that of others, residing far above humans."

He dug his fingers through his hair with a frustrated hum.

"Humans and dragons, man and beast, we are both fallible. The wisdom of the winged is finite and falls far under the fanciful dreams of those that don't know. Those that don't comprehend. They falter when they realize that the fame of dragons is founded on fearful rumors and fatal lies."

With a fragile touch, he felt along his left arm to the scarring on his elbow. His frenzied flying along with the fearsome ups and downs of his emotions had finally ceased. Gone were the days of being able to forget his mental fallacies by winging into the night.

Here, in these four walls, only his mind was left to take flight.

 _ **G is for Gold**_

"Get a hold of yourself there, Rookie," Danny warned.

Kono's eyes were glued to the sight before them. After the gloom had been lifted in the basement, the heaps of gold artifacts glimmered and gleamed in the spotlights.

"Brah, it's like El Dorado," she gazed around the nearly solidly gold room.

"Or a dragon hoard," Chin muttered.

"What was that? I know that you didn't just make the incorrect assumption that dragons hoard gold," Danny pivoted on his feet and looked at Chin with a certain glint in his eyes.

Chin shook his head. "No way. I'd never do that."

"Come on, Danno, don't tell me you've never given some serious thought to having a hoard," Steve grinned at him.

Danny's hands swept out in a grand gesture to encompass the golden room. "Babe, if I had a hoard like this, I'd retire. And, if we're being honest here, you'd be the one to gather things into a hoard, not me."

"What?" Steve's brows went up.

"You. You already have a hoard," Danny said.

"Give me a break."

"No, you see, this is one of the things I gleaned from staying at your house. You hoard weapons."

"I do not."

Danny ticked off his fingers. "You have guns, grenades, shells, bullets, knives, a machete, a sword–"

"Okay, okay!"

"And that's just in your garage."

Steve grunted. Danny grinned.

Steve made a circular motion with his finger at all of the gathered treasure. "I'll tell you what, I bet this hoard is worth more than mine."

"He just admitted he has a hoard. You heard him," Danny gestured at the cousins. "He finally agreed with me! This is golden."

 _ **H is for Hoax**_

"I hate this time of year," Danny huffed.

"Yeah, I know, brah. I'm not a huge fan of these kinds of hoaxes, either," Chin agreed.

The pair of them were headed to what may or may not have been a horrible crime scene waiting to happen. Here, even in cheerful and sunny Hawaii, disturbed people creeped out of the shadows around Halloween.

"As if the boneheads coming out to party aren't enough, it's still so hot and humid here," Danny complained. "By the time it's Halloween at home, it's nippy and you have to have a jacket on when you go Trick-or-Treating."

"Hey, at least here you can always see all the kids' costumes," Chin said.

They pulled up to what looked like a haunted house in Kahala. The front yard had headstones and a life size headless horseman in the grass with skeletons hanging from the branches of a huge tree.

Half-way up the sidewalk of hewn stones a big hairy dog hurried to greet them. It had a bandanna tied around its neck and had a bloody handprint on its head.

Danny pulled his gun from its holster and Chin followed suit. The heavy oak door to the house was flung open with red splatters trailing inside. The dog barked and made a high pitched whine.

Chin heaved a sigh at the presence of claw marks on the door and its frame. "So much for this being a hoax."

 _ **I is for Icicles**_

Danny cursed incoherently as he was mercilessly clonked on the head. He inclined his head up to the eves of the house and glared at the icy stalactites.

"Ma! How come Pop hasn't melted this ice off yet?" he stepped off the sidewalk into the snow covered yard and turned to look at the icicles dripping off the roof.

"Your father's been busy and hasn't had the time," his mom said from the doorway. "I keep telling him they're going to impale someone."

"One almost impaled me," he indicated to the shattered ice scattered on the salted sidewalk.

"I'm sorry, baby," she said. "I'm going to have to get onto Eddie."

"Don't worry about it, Ma, I'll take care of it," he waved her off.

"You don't have to, honey. It's late and you're on vaca–"

"Please, Ma, just go get ready for bed. I've got this," he shooed her back inside the house.

The night was inky and only a few residual Christmas lights illuminated a couple of white yards. This was as best a time as any to deal with this issue. Scales appeared over his hands. He cupped them and blew a heated breath into them, causing a cloud of steam to rise. With his hot hands, he started grabbing the largest icicles and breaking them off.

"I'm pretty sure there's an easier way to do that."

Danny glanced at his sister Bridget. "If you know an easier way, than how come this waited to get done until I got here, huh?"

Bridget joined him outside. She showed a particular kind of indifference to the icy air with no coat, gloves, or even a scarf. Had to have been the Cliff blood in her veins. With an impish laugh, she presented a broom. "Just like when we were in high school, right?"

Danny barely jumped out of the way as his slightly intoxicated sister took a swing at the icicles. There was an impressive crash as the majority of them all fell on the sidewalk.

"Are you insane? Now we have a different mess to clean up," he gestured at the shards of ice.

"Come on, Danny, admit it," Bridget gave him the infamous smile that almost always got her out of trouble. "You miss having to deal with winter."

He gave her an irked look.

 _ **J is for Jackasses**_

"This better not turn out like the thing with the jockstraps and the jugs."

"Are you joking? I thought Aunt Jackie was going to kill me. Won't catch me doing that one again."

Danny eyed his brother Matt suspiciously. "If this blows up in our faces and the guys at the Academy find out–"

"It's not going to blow up, just trust me, bro."

"Last time I trusted you–"

"Hey, no, that thing with the jump rope wasn't–"

"Oh, yes, it was, and if I remember correctly–"

"No, no, it was our cousin Joey's idea–"

"But you–"

"No, _we_ went along–"

" _I_ was coerced–"

"If you weren't such a jerk–"

"Me? I had a job to worry about and–"

"Come on, Danny! This is going to be fun."

Danny rolled his eyes with a snort. They said never judge a book by its cover, but he could judge this one. He'd already read it and seen how it ended, and it didn't end well for the pair of them. But, it was his brother. What was he going to do?

"Okay, okay, fine. Just, make sure we have helmets."

 _ **K is for Kaput**_

"No one's ever going to believe us."

"Nope."

"I was there and I still don't believe it."

The team was kicking back at a picnic table in front of Kamekona's shrimp truck. Their day had been a bit crazy.

Danny rubbed his thumb over his bloodied and bruised knuckles. "I've seen kleptomaniacs before, but this was kind of ridiculous, huh?"

"A kleptomaniac kickboxer with an illegal pet kangaroo?" Kono laughed and shook her head at the absurd alliteration. "It's going to make for a killer report."

"I would like to be a fly on the wall when the Governor reads it," Chin said.

They glanced over at their boss, who had his head resting on his folded arms. Danny nudged his knee under the table. No response. Only a soft, sleepy snore.

"I thought he looked about ready to keel over," Danny made an encompassing gesture at Steve. "Remember this day, guys. The day that Super SEAL finally went kaput."

 _ **L is for Lantern**_

Kamekona walked under the canopy of the large old banyan tree. Bottles of various shapes, colors, and sizes dangled from braided strands of twine and leather. Each was lit by a small wick fed by a little pool of oil. At this time of night, it looked like a thousand fireflies lazily drifting through the prop roots.

At last, he spotted a familiar person lighting a wick in another bottle. "Hey, sistah."

She turned and smiled. Her formal attire that she wore while standing guard at the dragon market had been left at home and traded in for a pair of jeans and a loose fitting shirt. Once the wick she was trying to light was lit, she shook out her long match and moved to greet him with a hug.

"How's it, Kame?"

"I'm still walkin'," he pulled away with a grin. He looked up at all the bottles, some of them being recent additions. "Makoa told me you'd be out here."

She leaned against him and cast her eyes up to the lanterns with a heavy sigh. "Twenty-two."

Kamekona let that number sink in. It didn't take long to figure out what was significant about it. "One for each dragon off of those ships Five-0 took out."

"Twenty-two lives. But there were more before them. So many more," she whispered.

Kamekona wrapped his arms around her and held her close. This tree of lanterns, this tree of lamentation, this tree of legends, had come to host thousands of bottles with tiny flames burning within them. Each with a different story behind it, each marking a tragedy or the end to a life. It didn't matter, though. No matter how many lanterns were already there, adding even one more was a lance to the heart.

"Don't worry, sistah," he said in a low voice thick with emotion. "We'll get them all up there. We'll get them."

 _ **M is for Monster**_

Many men had had the crap scared out of them by Steve McGarrett. Danny included, though for different reasons. Whenever he would mutter and complain that his partner was acting more animal than man, Steve would make a massive leap directly into danger. That's what scared him. The fact that Steve had it in his head that the McGarrett men showed no fear.

Moving ever so slightly in the shadows, Danny could see the reason criminals were scared of his partner. Why the meatheads tucked their tails, the mob bosses lost their cool, and the meticulous schemers unraveled.

Though mostly shrouded by shadows, his partner had caught their bad guy's attention. White teeth flashed and a murderous growl muted the man's string of curses at being cornered. The man started to beg for mercy quietly at first, but it mutated into a cry of terror.

Steve, when fully shifted into his dragon form and in a foul mood, was a manifestation of a nightmare. He was a master of intimidation in human form. The many bared fangs and the sideways sliding nictitating membrane across his dark, currently malevolent eyes were far scarier than even his Super SEAL glare that could peel paint. Match those up with his mass that he could maneuver with a malignant vibe, and there it was. The answer.

Men were terrified that the McGarrett Monster was going to eat them.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **It was kind of big as one thing, so I split it up. It also gives me an extra week to get chapters written. They're already breathing down my neck again, darn it.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", the alphabet continues with N-Z, again containing bantering, fluff, whump, humor, and a smidge of angst.**

 **Thank you for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	52. Fact 49 Part II

**It's so windy here. So windy. Brown skies.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #49: Dragon alphabet soup is best enjoyed in the company of friends.**

 **Season: 1-3**

 **Part II**

 _ **N is for Niche**_

"I think you've found your niche."

Steve looked up from his concoction with furrowed brows. "My what?"

"Your niche. Your place in society. You see, you're not really a Super SEAL or a taskforce leader."

Steve rolled his eyes and focused back on what he was mixing.

"You're a baker."

Steve needed to pay attention to what he was doing with the volatile ingredients, but he couldn't help but look up at Danny again. "A baker?"

Danny nodded. "Yes, you, Steven J. McGarrett, the monster that many criminals fear may be lurking under their bed at night, are a baker. While this isn't a fine dining location–" he swept his hands out at the nearly abandoned warehouse "–it suits this whole baker of death thing you've got going on."

"Danny, do you talk just because you like the sound of your own voice?" Steve huffed.

"You, my friend, have problems," Danny said. He waved a hand vividly at the containers of gasoline and boxes of packing peanuts that surrounded the workbench where Steve was standing. "How can you not even break a sweat or have a nervous breakdown while making napalm? You just stand there mixing it like you're making brownies."

"Exploding brownies," Steve said. "This is homemade napalm, so it's not as sticky or reliable as military grade, but it's still nasty."

Danny massaged his temples. "And why are we doing this, again?"

"We're going to lure Nelligan out of hiding with an offer that's too good to pass up, and then use him to catch his partners."

"Ah, yes. We're going to use napalm to draw out the naughty nefarious weapons dealer and hope that the nut job doesn't nix us first."

"Happy with your alliteration?"

"Yes. Now, shut up and make sure you don't blow us up."

 _ **O is for Ordinary**_

"911, what is your emergency?"

" _This is Commander McGarrett of Five-0, I need an ambulance sent to the Japanese Botanical Garden."_

"What exactly is the nature of your emergency, Commander?"

" _I have two officers down. One with multiple dragon bites and another with a GSW to the lower abdomen. I think it missed his vital organs and there is an exit wound."_

"Are both patients conscious?"

" _Kono is, and Danny…hey, Danny, eyes open, man. Paramedics are on the way. Don't give me that…ow! He's conscious."_

"Commander, is the scene safe?"

" _Yes. Both suspects have been apprehended."_

"Are you able to determine what type of dragon bit your officer?"

" _Drake. No need for antivenin."_

"Are both patients breathing normally?"

" _Hang on…yeah, Kono is. Danny's breaths are rapid and kind of shallow, but he's still talking. No, this wasn't my fault. No, it isn't an occupational hazard of working with me. Hey, shut up, you're breathing too fast."_

"An ambulance should be turning off East-West Road right now and heading towards you."

" _I can hear the sirens. No, Danny, I'm fine. I don't need checked out, too."_

The dispatcher shook her head as the call ended. The Five-0 Taskforce certainly offered them a chance to go through their paces on an almost disturbingly regular schedule. So much so that the call that she'd just been involved with was becoming ordinary.

 _ **P is for Protector**_

"Danno, can I see your claws?"

He peeked over the edge of the case file he was perusing. The pair of them were sitting on the couch watching a movie, a big bowl of popcorn sharing the space between them.

"Why do you want to see my claws, Monkey?"

"I dunno. Please, can I see them?"

Danny sighed and set his hand in her waiting palms. Diamond shaped scales patterned over his flesh and particularly mean looking claws protruded out from his nailbeds. They weren't anywhere near the length they were when he was in dragon form, but they were pretty formidable all the same.

Grace traced her fingers down one claw and then up the next one. She pored over every curve of every claw, paying close attention to the scratches and dings from wear and tear.

She grinned. "My, what big claws you have."

Danny smiled and pulled her closer to him. "All the better to protect you with."

 _ **Q is for Qi**_

Danny glanced around at the tranquil reception area. It had a certain energy that was soothing, from its earthy colors to the plants and water features to the absolutely massive aquarium with its colorful round fish that all schooled together. It was almost enough to make him forget why he was here. Almost.

Chin must have noticed his nervous demeaner. "Don't worry, brah. These are good people. Kono came here after she blew out her knee and I come here whenever I get something knocked out of place."

"It's just irritating, you know?" Danny winced as he fidgeted around in the chair. "For all the bone and muscle rearranging, changing, sprouting, growing, shifting, whatever, that dragons can do, we still manage to get ribs out of place. How does that even happen?"

Chin shrugged. "You are asking the wrong person."

"Danny?"

A woman appearing to be in her early twenties stood in the doorway next to the aquarium with a smile on her face. Danny got up and left Chin sitting in the reception area while he followed the woman back into the interior of the building.

"I'm Ray," she extended her hand. "So, you're Chin and Kono's workmate?"

"For better or for worse," he said, a tiny smirk curling one side of his mouth.

She grinned. Unlike the soothing atmosphere of the reception area, she had a more upbeat energy. "According to Chin you have a few ribs out, right? Have you been to a chiropractor before?"

He laughed. "In my line of work, it would have been nearly impossible for me to have stayed away from one."

"Cop. Right," she nodded.

A withered old woman slowly walked down the hallway towards them, having the gait of a tortoise with her body bent over her wooden cane. Despite the fragility of her appearance, ancient laugh lines and crows feet wrinkled her face from her smile.

"The qi is quite muddled with this one," she commented with a dry chuckle and patted Danny's arm before continuing on her journey down the hallway.

"My what is what?" he asked.

Ray turned a corner and led him into a room. "Qi. Life force. Breath. Energy. If Auntie says the qi has problems, the qi has problems."

"Huh," he said and sat on the edge of the padded table. His hands darted up to flit around in the air. "No offense, but all of that homeopathic, energy, pseudoscience stuff is a little bit out there for me."

"No, no. I get it. People think we're quacks," she said. She skimmed over the papers on her clipboard before looking up at him. "The whole qi thing isn't really my style, but Auntie's run this practice for years and she knows when something's off before the person even does, so I just listen to her. Whether she's some kind of qi sensitive Yoda or not, she's always right. You don't argue with Auntie. You never win when you argue with Auntie."

"Sounds like my partner," Danny muttered.

"Steve?"

"How'd you–"

"He came in after he broke his arm. The guy sounded like Rice Krispies while I was putting him back in place. You'll have to ask him what Auntie told him about his qi," Ray said.

They talked for a bit longer about his history, his knee, what had knocked his ribs out of place, standard procedure. Finally, Ray set her clipboard down. "Okay, you ready Danny?"

"Am I ready to have my bones forcibly relocated? No. But they're killing me, so I guess I need it," Danny quipped as he laid back on the table.

"If it's any consolation, I won't try to make you cry like I did with Steve."

"Wait, you made Super SEAL cry? Do you have any footage of this event?"

"Sorry. Patient confidentiality. Now, relax. Breathe in, and out."

 _Crack._

 _ **R is for Rage**_

Running his hand over the smooth texture of the banyan tree's prop roots let his mind momentarily refocus. Another restless night had brought him up here in the wee hours of the gray dawn. He wasn't looking forward to chasing his racing thoughts around in circles today. He'd already done that yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that. And the day before that. And so many days before that.

He raked his fingers through his hair. His new life in Hawaii had both invigorated him and worn him ragged. But up here, far removed from society and prying eyes, no one could see the reality of his emotional state. How deep the wounds ran.

Steve was in prison, Kono was suspended, Chin had slunk off to HPD, and Five-0 had been disbanded. Though he reckoned Chin was working some angle and hadn't completely abandoned them, that was really just the cake. The cherry on top was Rachel's call to him this morning.

The baby wasn't his.

It wasn't his.

It was Stan's.

Not. His.

He roared and swung at a tangled mass of prop roots. Monstrous claws and rough scales ripped through the wood. Birds reeled away from the trees in a cacophony. Splinters flew as he ravaged three more tangles of prop roots. Claws shredded and tore through the tree.

It was the anger at Wo Fat, at IA, at Rachel that fueled him now. Finally, realization struck that he'd never have his family back together, making the empty void of depression rear its ugly head, but he shoveled handfuls of something else into that open space. His adoptive _ohana_ had been shattered like the unfortunate prop roots that he had decided to let his steam out on. He, however, was going to rebuild that family. He'd get his best friend out of jail, get IA off Kono's back, and figure out where Chin stood.

For now, it was the rage the eclipsed all else.

 _ **S is for Security**_

Six o'clock that morning brought Mauna seven frat boys with blue pee. She suspected methylene blue was the culprit. Some kind of hazing or revenge or a prank. It wasn't her job to speculate, only to treat.

Seven thirty brought her a sixteen year old along with his father to her. Apparently, they had been fishing and the fishhook stuck in his thumb was confirmation enough for her. He said that his fingers slipped while tying the hook to the line and it went right through the pad of his thumb. Several minutes later she had the hook out, the thumb bandaged, and a tetanus shot given.

Eight o'clock brought her a cop that had been stabbed by a drug dealer. Funnily enough, he had been saved by the notebook in his breast pocket and it resulted in the blade only giving him a tiny slash on his chest and a sizable bruise. Another bandage and tetanus shot sent him on his way.

Eight forty brought her a rather embarrassed man. He reluctantly told her that he had been completely sloshed the night before and with a red face, asked if there was a male doctor instead. She sent Hale in. Later, she was filled in on the incident, Hale almost shattering her passive façade as he told her. Something to do with a glow stick in a rather unpleasant place.

Nine o'clock brought her a gentleman in his seventies having a heart attack.

Nine thirty brought her a case of food poisoning with leftover sushi being the likely suspect.

Nine fifty brought her a toddler that had been stung by fire ants.

Ten twenty brought her a surfer that had scraped a section of skin off her lower back on some sharp rocks.

Ten forty brought her a three vehicle wreck. They had nine patients, three of them children under the age of twelve. She along with Hale and two other doctors scrambled to stabilize them all. It was her passive façade that she kept up that allowed her to do CPR on a six year old until her arms ached. Until they called it. She remained under the passive façade, but Hale could see through it. The cold snark and silent fury. That was where she was safe.

A quarter 'til noon, while she still had blood on her scrubs and her arms tingled from pumping on a small chest, brought her a terrified woman. It took a single look. A single look at the broken arm, bruised neck, and cut lip. Sighing, wiping the blood off her palms onto the scrubs she was going to have to change out of before tending to the woman, she prepared to notify the police at the woman's behest.

She'd barely reached the front desk when a monster straight out of a Greek story stormed into the ER. He was a big Samoan, with sequoia sized arms and legs.

"Where is she?!"

Mauna made a snap judgement, pegging him as the abuser. She stood her ground in the hallway, no longer needing to notify the police. The snarling man had called enough attention to himself for the nurse at the desk to pick up the phone.

"Sir, you need to calm down and take a seat," Mauna said. She had the type of voice that brooked no room for argument in every other situation, and hoped that this would be no different.

"Where the hell is she?! Where's my wife?!" He made to go around her.

She sidestepped into his path. He squinted his eyes at her.

"Move!"

Mauna took the shove to her shoulders like a pro, only stepping back somewhat and maintaining her ground. "Sit. Down."

He let out an enraged roar at her and then at the security guards that appeared on either side of him. Bellowing, he swung his fist around and struck one guard in the jaw. While that guard sunk to the floor, the man slammed the other one into the wall.

Mauna dodged the beefy fist aimed at her face, but just barely. She skirted around the raging man as he charged her. Now that no one was in his way he continued down the hallway.

"Shit," Mauna cursed under her breath.

She was back on her feet and sprinting after him when the choked sobbing reached her ears. He was yelling again, yelling and reaching for the stricken woman cowering against the bed. He didn't get much farther.

Mauna sprung from the floor onto his back, snaking one arm around his neck and bracing the other behind his head. Her rugged blood red scales shielded her arms and added an extra painful bite to her strangle hold. He screeched like an animal. A nurse darted in and dragged the shaking woman to a safer location while he was distracted.

"Let go of me!" he backpedaled hard, squishing Mauna between his gargantuan mass and the wall. She grunted. "I swear–" slam, "–once I kill that–" slam, "–whore–" slam, "–I'm going to–" slam, "–kill you too–" slam, "–you bit–"

His tirade ended suddenly and he slumped to the floor. She stumbled up to her feet, letting her scales retreat back into hiding. Hale stood there. She raised a brow. He held up a syringe. She smirked grimly.

"You know, it's okay to show some emotion after a guy the size of a minotaur that's jacked up on steroids tries to squash you," Hale said. It was said softly with a knowing look.

She shot a glance down at her bloody scrubs, wincing at the pain in her back from being repeated slammed against the wall. Rolling her shoulders with a sigh, she started to slink away, but she let her ever present passive façade dissolve for a second before she disappeared.

"You know what, Hale? Some days really suck."

 _ **T is for Talent**_

Danny turned around and tuned into his daughter's voice. The taut frown he'd been sporting dissolved as he listened. He got up from the couch, leaving the case files behind, and tiptoed toward the kitchen. There at the countertop, making a PB&J for herself, his lovely daughter stood singing.

The tune was one he recognized vaguely from one of the singers Grace had taken to in recent months. It wasn't really his taste in music, because nothing beat Bon Jovi or Sinatra, but he'd listen to her sing the words off a takeout menu he enjoyed hearing her so much.

Her singing turned to muttering as she tried to twist the cap off of the jam jar.

"Need some help, Monkey?"

She jumped and fumbled with the jar until it was back on the counter safely. "Danno! I thought Uncle Steve gave you homework?"

"Is that what he told you?" Danny asked. He grabbed the jar and tapped around the edge of the lid with the butt of the butter knife to loosen it. He tutted. "You do know that I have to do half of his homework for him, too, right?"

Grace grinned as the lid popped off easily in his hand and he slid the jar back toward her. She scooped a blob out and slapped it onto the still naked slice of bread. "Uncle Steve told me that you're so talented with writing out the papers that he'll just let you do them from now on."

Danny glanced heavenward for help and then looked playfully at his daughter. "You realize he told you that because he doesn't want to admit he doesn't know how to use a pen or how to type."

"He does, too," she objected as she stored the jar back in the refrigerator.

"No, he doesn't. He still chisels things out on rocks like a caveman," Danny said.

"He also said that you have a special talent with words," she teased and smashed her two pieces of bread together.

"And he has a special talent of acting like a gorilla one hundred percent of the time," he said. A smile split his face. "And you have a talent for singing."

Grace's ears flared red. "You were listening to me?"

"Hanging on every note," Danny's hand swept out in a flowing gesture.

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you, Grace Elizabeth?" he asked. He gathered her under his arm and the two made their way back to the couch. "The best part is that I get a front row seat to every concert."

Grace set her sandwich on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around him tightly. "I love you, Danno."

"Love you more, Monkey."

 _ **U is for Understanding**_

"I understand, Commander."

"No, Sir, we need…wait. You understand?"

Denning nodded. Steve had to backtrack a few paces. The Governor was being unusually cooperative, and he wondered just exactly why he was being so calm and agreeable.

"I'm under the impression that they only reason your team found those ships was because Detective Williams had been kidnapped and stashed on one of them," Denning said.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. After having pulled Danny off the _Hathor's Joy_ a few days ago, having arrested a high number of accomplices, and started a massive coordination with other authorities, they had tried to keep their reason for finding out about the ships under wraps. The last thing they wanted was for Danny's secret of being a Cliff to be revealed.

Denning apparently read his body language too well. "Don't worry, Commander. No one else knows."

"Then, respectfully, Sir, how do you know?"

"Your partner disappears from the hospital and by that very afternoon you're bringing down a major dragon breeding operation? Not to mention Williams turned up shortly after that? I may not be a detective, but I am not as blind as I think you sometimes hope I am."

Steve exhaled slowly through his nose. "So, you agree?"

"I do. After what your team has been through on the job with this case and then what your team has gone through emotionally, I understand and completely agree that you deserve a reprieve."

"Thank you, Sir."

 _ **V is for Vulnerability**_

"Every dragon has one," Miss Kalawai'a said. "It is very important that you know where they are and when to utilize them."

Danny leaned over to whisper to Steve. "I'm pretty sure, no matter the species, a knee to the crotch will render them harmless."

Miss Kalawai'a, the bat eared woman that she was, gave them a thinly veiled glare. "Care to venture a guess where the most vulnerable spot on an Arboreal is, Detective Williams?"

Of course. He just couldn't win today. It didn't help that Steve was snickering off to his side. "Arboreals have relative thin scales, but the neck and belly would be my educated guess, Miss."

"Dragons have a lot of neck and belly area on them. Care to be any vaguer?" she gave them a vain smirk. "Arboreals are most vulnerable in the hollows of their jaws and on their gliding wings. Amphibians have sensitives eyes and softer scales that are not as protective as those on other dragons. Serpents' whiskers and flanks are sensitive areas as are their snouts. A Wyvern's wings and jaw hollow are two of its only vulnerable areas, and the jaw hollow on a Drake is one of its only vulnerable areas. Any questions?"

A hand went up on the other side of the room. "What about Cliffs?"

Danny swallowed convulsively.

Miss Kalawai'a leveled the officer with a stern look. "I'd barely consider it a valid question."

"Why?"

"The chances of coming across a Cliff in your lifetime are virtually zero."

Danny shrugged his shoulders and made a valiant effort in appearing unconcerned. After years of practice, he was able to pull it off well.

"But what if, hypothetically, one did come across a resistant and volatile Cliff? What then?"

Miss Kalawai'a worked her jaw. "You want my honest opinion, Sanders?"

The young officer nodded.

"You pray that you can get out of there safely."

 _ **W is for Wishful**_

White snow. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen snow. A white blanket covering the ground, dusting the trees, spraying in her face as she snowboarded on winding trails down the mountain. The Alps or the Rockies, it didn't matter. She'd settle for a snow covered molehill if she could only be outside to touch the icy cold white and experience the frigid weather.

Tamarin shuddered and rolled over, pulling her limbs in closer to her body. The wail of another dragon in labor a few containers down wafted through the slivers in her metal box. Her prison. Her wasteland. Her coffin. Tears streaked down her face as she forced herself to think about the white snow she would never see again.

It was just wishful thinking.

 _ **X is for X-ray**_

"I'm keeping it."

"No, you're not."

"Oh yes, yes I am. Because this proves something that I've never doubted."

"That I'm indestructible?"

"That you, my friend, are well and truly boneheaded."

Steve glared at the x-ray that his partner was toting back to the car. His fingers brushed the bare patch on his head where the stitches held the flesh together.

"If I hadn't have started to shift, you would be in a completely different mood."

Danny sobered. "I would be making the call to your sister to let her know that her brother was killed by a xenophobic protester with a tent stake. Luckily for all of us, you have quick reflexes and a dense skull."

Steve smirked. "You always say I'm a ninja."

"A boneheaded Neanderthal animal ninja."

"Are you seriously going to keep that?"

"Yes, Steven, I seriously am going to keep it. Maybe hang it up in my office. It's like a piece of modern art."

 _ **Y is for Yammer**_

Steve got a good whiff of his partner's breath as Danny yawned and stretched his arms over his head. The pair of them were camped out in the back of a surveillance van waiting for their young undercover rookie to give them the code words that signaled she had found Chin and was ready for them to move in. Steve didn't care much for this sitting and surveilling stuff, and the yawn from his partner was a welcome distraction.

"Spruce," he said.

"What?"

"Maybe pine."

"What're you talking about?" Danny questioned, seemingly just as glad to have something else to do.

"Your breath. It's smoky, and that means that you've been stoking. Was it spruce or pinewood?"

"You know, it's usually considered yucky to smell someone's breath," Danny said.

Steve's brows went up in amusement. "Yucky?"

"Yucky, icky, weird, strange, uncouth, weird," Danny rattled off.

"You said weird twice."

"Because it is weird," Danny said. He flapped a hand at his mouth. "Why're you smelling my breath, huh?"

Steve spread his arms wide, bumping either side of the van. "I can't help it! Do you see this tiny box we're in? We've been in it so long that I know exactly how many whiskers you have on the right side of your face."

Danny scratched at the stubble growing along his jaw. "You have problems, Steven. Mental issues."

"Me? You're the one making a big deal–"

"Only because you're–"

"I am not a Neanderthal–"

"I was going to say–"

"Not a control–"

"Stop interrupting me, you cave–"

"Not a caveman either–"

"Really? Because I could list–"

"Hey, you hear that?"

They both fell silent and listened to the feed over the speakers.

" _Yellow yams. Yellow. Yams. Yellow yams. Yelloooow yaaaams."_

Kono's voice alternated between high and low pitches and singsong as she repeated the code words over and over.

"Crap," Danny flung his headphones off and bolted out of the van with Steve hot on his tail. "And for your information, it was spruce."

"I knew it."

 _ **Z is for Zombie (by The Cranberries)**_

 _Another head hangs lowly_

 _Child is slowly taken_

 _And the violence causes silence_

 _Who are we mistaking?_

 _But, you see, it's not me_

 _It's not my family_

 _In your head, in your head_

 _They are fighting_

Danny had to swallow hard. Had to fight the nausea. He broke away from the crime scene. He couldn't handle it. Couldn't handle the sight. Couldn't bear being there. At least, alone.

 _With their tanks, and their bombs_

 _And their bombs, and their guns_

 _In your head, in your head_

 _They are crying_

Steve had seen it before. He'd seen it overseas. But here, in Hawaii? It made him sick.

 _In your head_

 _In your head_

 _Zombie, zombie, zombie_

 _What's in your head?_

 _In your head_

 _Zombie, zombie, zombie_

Danny cried. Steve held him. They would get him, no doubt. They'd find justice. But right now? Right now, it hurt so bad.

 _Another mother's breaking_

 _Heart is taking over_

 _When the violence causes silence_

 _We must be mistaken_

They had to tell the parents. The mothers screamed in tears. The fathers wept and groaned in pain. They refused to give up.

 _It's the same old thing since 1916_

 _In your head, in your head_

 _They're still fighting_

 _With their tanks and their bombs_

 _And their bombs and their guns_

 _In your head, in your head_

 _They are dying_

The team did not sleep until they found him. Their hunt was tireless. They never gave up. Kono sprinted after him. Chin was there beside her. Steve finally caught him. Danny cuffed him.

 _In your head_

 _In your head_

 _Zombie, zombie, zombie_

 _What's in your head?_

 _In your head_

 _Zombie, zombie, zombie_

They had won. They had lost. But they stood firm, always. The four of them. Together. Protecting the islands.

* * *

 **So, what'd you guys think of the song one? Would you be interested if I did another one or two of those or nah? Personally, I like the Bad Wolves tribute of _Zombie_ more, but still really like The Cranberries' version, because without it the other wouldn't exist.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", the team comes up against an unbeatable opponent. In card games.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, and faving!**


	53. Fact 50

**Ah, yes. A most worthy opponent.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #50: Some games change when dragons are involved.**

 **Season: Late Season 3**

Steve flexed a stunted rudder fin on his forearm. Kono picked at the webbing between her fingers. Chin rubbed his fingers over the smooth bronze scales on the back of his hand. Danny licked his lips with a flicker of blue tongue tips.

They were getting absolutely crushed in this game. And the whole mastermind behind their defeat? Grace Williams. Little sweet, charming Grace.

"Flush," she laid out five hearts on the table.

The four grown adults slapped their cards down.

"Unbelievable," Steve said with a dramatic sigh. "What did you do, Danno, raise her in a casino?"

"I'll have you know for a fact that my innocent Monkey has never set foot in a casino," Danny said.

"You sure, brah? She's been mopping the floor with us all night," Kono huffed, but winked at Grace.

"We keep playing anymore and she'll have you three fully shifted soon," Chin said. He grinned and held his hand up for a high five from the ten year old.

"If we were playing by the regular rules we'd all be in the buff right now," Danny commented under his breath to Steve.

Steve sat back in his chair. "This is good. Playing shift poker is how you learn to control very minor shifts. Helped me a lot when I was learning how to shift and my dad would play it with me and Mary."

"Except, the one who actually needs to learn," Danny smiled at his daughter, "isn't shifting because she's too good at five card draw, huh?"

Steve shrugged. It was true. While he and Kono had started to sprout scales, webbing, and fins, and Danny and Chin had only shifted forearm scales and then a tongue for Danny, Grace only had auburn and gold scales shimmering rosily on her cheeks.

"We could play slapjack," he suggested.

Grace made a face. "I don't like that game. Everyone gets too excited and then my hand always gets smacked too hard."

"How about cheatin' crow?" Chin asked. "Every time you get caught cheating you have to shift."

"No, no, no," Danny shook his head. He waved a hand out at Grace. "I don't want to play a game that encourages you to cheat and lie."

Kono laughed suddenly. "I got it! Hold on."

Chin gathered the cards up and neatly organized them back into a deck. By the time he had put them back, Kono had finished rummaging around in the clear plastic container they had dubbed the Game Box and kept in the storage closet. She waggled the new box of cards at them.

Danny blew out a breath. "Oh, boy. This should be fun."

"Come on, Danny, everyone loves Uno," Kono said as she pulled the deck out and shuffled them.

"You know who always gets the hand that has a wild card, two skips, and three draw twos? Them," Danny pointed at Grace and then at Steve.

"Okay, but with this one, you have the option of shifting instead of having to draw two cards," Kono explained.

"We playing the color rule, too?" Chin asked.

Kono nodded. "And if someone lays down a color and you don't have that color or number, you can shift instead of drawing, and then the turn goes to the next person."

Steve eyed Grace and gave her an understanding nod. She did the same once she examined her cards. Danny dug his fingers through his hair with a deep sigh.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Grace had indeed still had the upper hand, but this time it was more balanced. At one point, Chin must have had every draw card in the deck. Between him and Grace they had managed to get Steve and Kono to completely shift. After that, they had finally called it a night and decided to watch a movie.

Of course, Steve being Steve, refused to shift back into a human and thus took up the space on the floor between the coffee table and the couch. Kono, being much more reasonable, had shifted back down into a more manageable size and claimed the comfy chair.

Steve snorted softly and nudged Grace with a gliding wing. "I've been stung by those before."

"Really?" Grace turned wide eyes up at him, her hand pausing midway to her mouth with its delivery of popcorn.

"I was just swimming and then all of the sudden, there were jellyfish everywhere," Steve said.

Grace glanced over the sea monster she was curled up against. "Were you a dragon when they got you?"

"Yeah. Got me right through my scales. Feel how they're not very thick?"

Grace ran her hand down his shoulder and foreleg, nodding seriously. His scales were smooth and soft like a corn snake, not nearly as thick as her Danno's scales. "Did it hurt?"

"Nah," he smirked.

Chin chuckled. He leaned forward on the couch to whisper conspiratorially to Grace. "I was there and I got stung, too. Your Uncle Steve is a tough guy, but he wasn't one that day."

Steve scowled at him.

"And just between you and me, your Uncle Chin wasn't very tough that day, either," Chin said and returned to his couch corner.

Danny cracked a smile at the exchange as the room quieted again and the five of them continued to watch the Pixar movie about a father looking for his son. He liked to think that Marlin and Dory reflected him and Steve somewhat, with Steve definitely being Dory since he conveniently forgot police procedure the majority of the time and Danny was an exasperated father just like Marlin.

"Do sea turtles really live that long?" Grace questioned as Crush appeared onscreen.

"Totally," Kono said. "Maybe I'll take you to meet our cousin on the North Shore sometime. He works with rescued wildlife and has met quite a few old turtles."

"Awesome," Grace beamed up at her.

The smile on Danny's face broadened. His _ohana_ was one of a kind, the kind one came across once in a life time. Well, once in his lifetime, anyway, because he wasn't a turtle. He didn't think he'd make it to one hundred fifty years old with Steve as a partner.

* * *

 **We once played Uno with three decks mixed in together. It was a loooong game.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", there's an explosion, an argument, and an old SEAL buddy shows up.**

 **It was a rather fluffy chapter. I promise, I have some more plot/story heavy chapters in the works. Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, and faving!**


	54. Fact 51

**Ah. Yes. I love a good explosion in the morning.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #51: Dragons can judge a person's character only as well as a human can. They don't have super powers, you know.**

 **Season: Late Season 3**

"No sign of Bishop?" Danny asked over the receiver on his tactical vest.

" _We thought we saw him run toward the basement, but Chin and I can't find him."_

Danny pounded down the stairs with a grim expression, not even bothering to look at the time. He already knew they didn't have much left. The top priority was getting all of the residents out of the small apartment complex and then locating the explosives supposedly placed inside the building.

"Okay, don't worry about him. Get out and keep the perimeter secure. If this is a false alarm he's not going to get very far," Danny said. And if it wasn't a false alarm, then Bishop would either have to haul butt out of the building into their waiting arms or go out with a bang.

He held a toddler against his chest while the young boy's mother carried her infant down the stairs at a breakneck pace. Her teenage son followed with their big dog wrapped up in his arms. Danny kicked open the door at the bottom.

"Kono, get them behind the safety line," Danny handed the toddler off to her and instructed the mother and teenager to follow her.

He turned back to the building just as Chin came out of the door with an elderly woman and a cat clinging to his shoulder.

"Did you see Steve?" he asked.

Chin shook his head. He caught him before he could rush back in. "Danny, if Bishop wasn't lying there's only a handful of seconds left before this whole building could come down."

Danny shrugged him off. It didn't matter if Steve was still inside and needed help getting people to safety. His partner was on his third trip and may be losing steam. He had to help. Chin looked at him knowingly, but didn't move to stop him again, instead hurrying his elderly charge toward the line that HPD had set up.

Before Danny could reach the door, it flung open and Steve ran out with a woman in an ankle brace in his arms, a young girl on his back, and another mother with a toddler in her arms trailing after him. Danny grabbed the girl off his partner's back and raced toward the HPD line.

"Did Bishop come out yet?" Steve questioned. At Danny's headshake, he turned to run back for the building with Danny chasing him.

There was a rattling boom and a cloud of dust went up. They both backpedaled behind the Camaro, choking on debris with their ears ringing. The building sunk as its supports disintegrated. As the last of the sounds of destruction ceased, they slowly stood up to survey the scene.

"Guess Bishop wasn't lying," Steve said, missing the irritated look that crossed Danny's face.

Danny followed him back to the HPD line where a crowd of people had gathered, some being residents from the building and others just spectators. The woman Steve had carried out flung her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek, crowing about him being her hero. Go figure. Super SEAL gets them into this mess and then gets all the praise afterward.

A hand lightly touched Danny's shoulder. He turned to the mother and her three kids.

"Thank you," she said through watery eyes. The teenage son nodded in agreement while the toddler clung to their frightened dog.

Danny glanced at the other now homeless people. A scowl settled on his face. If they had looked into Bishop closer like he had suggested, this wouldn't have happened.

* * *

Danny glared out of the passenger window of the Camaro. He had put his hair back in place, dusted off his shirt and slacks, and remained silent as they drove back to the Palace. The car reeked of smoke and dust from the explosion and Steve idly wondered if his partner even noticed since he had said nothing about it. In fact, he had said nothing about anything, only asking if he was okay and then climbing in the car.

Silent Danny was not good news for him, so he finally had to break it. "What?"

"What do you mean what?" Danny looked at him.

His stony features told Steve two things. One, he was pissed. Pissed enough that he wasn't ranting. Two, he was pissed at _him_. Why? What did he do this time? He shuffled through their morning activity in search of a reason why this wrath was being directed his way, but he couldn't figure out what he had done to warrant it.

"You. You're being all quiet," he said.

"I am capable of being quiet even when I'm not sleeping, Steven," Danny said.

"You talk in your sleep, you know that?"

"If you go around telling people that, they're going to think we're sleeping together," Danny said with a twitch of his hand.

Steve took the small flutter as a sign that he could probably provoke a rant and finally get to the reason. "Good point. But I'm just concerned that you're not reading me the riot act for something. What did I do? Did I double park when we ran into the complex? Was I not supposed to carry people down the stairs? Is that breaking some kind of law?"

Danny snorted. His hands went up to motion along with his words. "No. I, for once in my years as your partner, am glad that you were a SEAL. I don't think anyone else could have gotten that many people out of a building as fast as you did. You just picked them up over your shoulder like a caveman or had them piggyback and carried them to safety."

Now he was confused. He hadn't been expecting commendation, and his brows lowered. "Then why are you mad at me?"

"Who said I'm mad at you, huh?" Danny flung one hand out.

"When you're quiet, it's the calm before the storm. I want to know if I need to prepare for Thunderstorm Danny or Hurricane Danny," he said.

"Fine," Danny huffed. His arms went lax and he rested one elbow up on the door, his fingers doing minute movements as he continued. "Why didn't you listen to me?"

"Listen to you about what?"

"Exactly! I told you that we should have followed up on Bishop, but you didn't feel like he was a viable suspect. Guess what? He was the one who put the explosives in the complex! If we had questioned him earlier, that building would have never blown up and all those people wouldn't be without a home," Danny said. He looked at Steve imploringly. "You know, I was a good detective back in Jersey before I got saddled with a shoot first, ask questions later Neanderthal."

Steve blew a slow breath out of his nose. "I trust your instincts, partner, it's just…."

"Just what?"

"We all make mistakes," he said and shot a glance over at Danny. "You were sure that Graham Wilson had killed his wife, and he didn't."

"I was following evidence! He had the murder weapon and blood on his hands, and he took off when police confronted him, and then he took seven hostages!" Danny argued. "The only reason why you believed him was because he was a SEAL and you felt some kind of comradery with him. Would you have given him the benefit of the doubt if he had been some random guy off the street and not a SEAL?"

Steve opened his mouth, but Danny cut him off. He had tried to provoke a rant and was clearly successful at accomplishing that goal.

"What about Meka, huh? You didn't listen to me when I told you that he was innocent, even though he was my friend and I knew that he wouldn't turn dirty. You were all about following the smoke, then. You're wishy-washy when it comes to following evidence and procedure, you know that?"

His jaw tightened. That didn't sit well with him to this day. Danny had needed support on an island where he had little family and few friends, and what a fine job Steve had done with that.

Danny sighed and combed his fingers through his hair, putting nonexistent errant strands in place. "You, my friend, get tunnel vision when you lock onto something. No one else's opinion matters. It's your way or the highway."

Steve rubbed his thumb over the steering wheel, watching buildings and cars and streets go by with a barely focused gaze. He and Danny had gotten on friendlier terms on the island. More teasing, less serious arguing. While he enjoyed a good rant, it disturbed him how this small slip up had closed Danny off again.

He prayed to whoever was listening that he hadn't screwed up big time.

* * *

Danny could tell that Steve was mentally rehearsing his words as they stalked into their offices. Whether he was rehearsing an excuse or an apology, he didn't know. He highly doubted it was an apology. It took a bit of goading to get him to apologize for getting him shot the first day they met, and low and behold, he had survived this incident without injury which was why he was sure it wasn't an apology. What did Steve have to apologize for, right?

"Smooth Doooog!"

He jumped at the loud, howling voice. "Who let the Rottweiler in, huh?"

A grin broke across Steve's face when they rounded the corner into the bullpen. "Shark Bait!"

Danny hung back while his partner went to greet the man standing by the smart table. He was around Steve's height, but with broader shoulders and legs like tree trunks. His brightly colored swim shorts and shirt contrasted sharply with his black skin. The bright smile that flashed across his face, though, settled Danny's hackles from his initial alarm.

"Long time, no see," the man said. "I heard you became a cop and decided I had to see it to believe it."

"Better believe it," Steve patted his badge. He pivoted toward Danny. "Abe, this is my partner Detective Danny Williams. Danny, this is Abraham Jones."

"Shark Bait?" Danny questioned and held out his hand for a handshake.

Abe shook his hand with a roll of his eyes. "Oh yeah, these guys all think it's funny, but it's not funny when you're that one that gets turned into shark bait for real."

"What're you doing in town?" Steve asked.

Danny quietly excused himself and slipped away to his office while Steve talked to Abe. He must have been on Steve's old SEAL team, what with the nickname, muscular build, and comfortable ease around Super SEAL himself.

Groaning at the amount of work that appeared on his computer screen once it was fully booted up, he briefly wondered if he could put it off until tomorrow. Then again, his tomorrow self would hate his present self for not just doing it when he had the chance. However, he absolutely refused to do any of his partner's work. The Neanderthal could manage on his own.

He shot a look at the two SEALs through the glass windows of his office and chewed on a pen cap thoughtfully. Abe was very relaxed in his posture, but Steve was strung tightly. He kept a safe distance from the other man and held his arms across his chest. Odd.

Danny shook his head and went back to his work. Easily half an hour later while he was midway through filling out the report concerning the explosion and subsequent demolition of the apartment complex, his door opened. He glanced up.

"You going to go out for a beer with your SEAL buddy?" he asked.

Steve made a face. A strange face that Danny had yet to put a name to. "He's going to come over to the house later tonight for burgers. You want to come?"

Danny sat back in his chair and put a hand to his chest. "Me? A mere mortal walking amongst two SEALs?"

"Come on, Danny," Steve huffed. He sat on the couch and braced his elbows on his knees with a frown.

"What's with the face, huh? I have a mountain of work to do since somebody allowed a suspect to blow up a building," Danny said.

"He wasn't a suspect! He had an alibi," Steve protested. He sighed and changed subjects. "What'd you think of Abe?"

That caught Danny off guard. "What, in the whole two seconds that I talked to him? Unlike you, I don't have Spidey senses to alert me to the smallest ounce of danger and then ignore said senses, but he seemed nice enough. What do you want me to say?"

Steve hesitated in responding.

Danny sat forward and pointed. "No, hold on. You're thinking something. Spit it out, why do you want to know what I think of your SEAL buddy?"

"Like I said, you've got good instincts," Steve said.

"Oh, now I've got good instincts? You didn't seem to want to trust them when it came to arresting Bishop this morning," Danny said.

"This is different."

"What? How the hell is this different? You only trust me when it comes to Navy SEAL nut–" Aha. That's why Steve had been tense earlier. Something clicked in his head. "You're worried that he's another Nick Taylor, aren't you?"

This time Steve didn't move. "I blindly trusted Nick and almost got the entire team killed, but you didn't like him from the beginning."

"I don't like anybody when I first meet them. I really didn't like you when you first showed up at my crime scene and hijacked it, and then shanghaied me into being your partner. It's just one of the perks of being a cop, you assume the worst about people," he said.

"Yeah, but you were right," Steve said and stood up. He muttered under his breath, "And I didn't listen to you the first time."

Danny almost missed the last part as Steve walked out of his office. He got to his feet and called after him. "I'll bring the beers for tonight, okay?"

* * *

He was at war with himself. On the one hand, he had trusted and to some degree still trusted Abe with his life. On a team there had to be complete confidence amongst its members, and Abe had never let him down before. And then on the other hand, he had trusted Nick with his life, and Nick had tried to kill him and his team. Without warning. Only Danny had had an innate dislike of him.

With Abe strolling through his house to the backyard, he had the distinct feeling of being torn. To trust or not to trust. There was no big event going on in Hawaii that would draw the unsavory kinds like Nick had gotten involved with, so he shouldn't be suspicious of Abe. Despite that, he had called and let Chin and Kono know where he was, what he was doing, and who he was with. That way his partner couldn't get after him for not preparing. And he had invited his backup.

One might call it overkill, but Steve called it being on the safe side.

"Nice private beach, man," Abe whistled as he stepped out onto the lanai. "You still surf?"

"When I have time," Steve leaned against the doorframe.

Abe nodded and turned toward him. "So, when's your partner supposed to show up?"

Steve froze minutely. What was this? Seeing how long he had before backup showed? He was a trained SEAL, but so was Abe. The man was no slouch when it came to hand to hand combat training, either, both in human and dragon form.

"'Cause I'm dying for a beer, and all you got in your fridge is coconut water," Abe continued.

Steve massaged his forehead. This was ridiculous. Abe wasn't Nick. He was the happy, chill guy that used to change song lyrics to fit their situation whenever the team was out on a mission and bored out of their minds while waiting for intel. The guy that insisted black ants tasted like lemons. The guy that had a pet pygmy goat instead of a dog. That guy. Not Nick.

"You cool?"

"It was a long day," Steve said.

"You and your partner have some kind of spat?" Abe asked.

"Danny's always up in arms about something. After three years you'd think he'd understand that he does things one way, and I do them another," Steve said, but even as he spoke he regretted it. This one was on him. He hadn't listened earlier and several people were without homes now.

"Right," Abe folded his thick arms over his chest with an understanding head bob. "Blew something up, didn't you?"

"No," Steve said, and then amended, "I didn't blow anything up. A suspect set charges in an apartment complex and took himself out."

"Dude, I was just guessing. Didn't think it actually had something to do with an explosion," Abe barked out a laugh.

Steve snorted. Abe was the guy that would do that, too. Take a wild stab at something and hit the nail on the head.

The front door swung open. "I think I got suckered into buying a variety case of beer instead of our standard Longboards, that's why it took me so long."

Abe rubbed his hands together in anticipation as Danny set the box on the patio table outside and lifted the flaps. The three dug around the bottles, each pulling out something different.

"You definitely got suckered," Abe said and proudly held up a green glass bottle.

"Abe, only you liked that crap," Steve laughed. He snapped the cap off his bottle and sipped, glad to have pulled a recognizable brand from the box.

Abe leaned in to whisper conspiratorially to Danny. "When you're in the jungle for months, beer is beer. Even if it does have the slight aftertaste of skunk."

Danny gestured at Steve. "If I had stopped by my normal store, then we wouldn't have this problem. I could've gotten a case of Longboards or a variety pack of German beers, but no, five minutes before I leave the office Steve tells me to stop by the one that's closer, and we wind up with a hodgepodge of mystery Asian beers."

Steve frowned. "You could've just gotten Longboards."

"How was I supposed to know if Abe here likes Longboards or prefers something else, huh?"

"Looks like your instincts don't extend to beer."

Danny inhaled deeply and waved a hand out at him. "Did he have this problem while he was in the Navy?"

"What problem?" Abe asked, but the way a smirk was pulling at the corner of his mouth and one eyebrow had arched up, Steve was sure he already knew.

"Chronic foot in mouth disease," Danny said and stalked away into the backyard toward the shore.

Steve watched him go. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair vigorously in agitation. Mostly at himself. He had grown so used to poking and prodding Danny that he'd dig himself a deeper hole than the original one he had fallen in. And no, he couldn't apologize like a normal person because that would give Danny the satisfaction. He would win the argument.

"I see Smooth Dog is only smooth with the ladies," Abe commented.

Steve set his beer down on the table. "Chronic foot in mouth disease, can you believe that?"

To his surprise, Abe nodded. "You were a good leader, dude, but you had a hard time accepting advice or ideas from anybody else."

"What?"

"Come on, man, I may look like a big, dumb, well-baked brick, but I get it. You questioned his instincts and got him all fired up, and now you keep poking the wound," Abe said. "Because you can't help yourself. Can't admit when you might've screwed up."

Steve opened his mouth.

"Hey, it's a SEAL thing," Abe cut him off. "It took me being married to finally learn how to say 'I'm sorry' and 'I messed up' and 'please, Trish, don't switch my cereal out with the goat's food, I'll get the lawn mowed, I promise'."

He chuckled as did Abe. Glancing at Danny on the shore, he sighed. He'd never had a close friend before. His SEAL team was close, but it was different. Hell, one had become a mercenary without his knowledge. Danny was his best friend, the brother he never had, and if he was honest with himself, he had been afraid from early on in their partnership that he would do exactly this. Push him away. On accident, of course, but through accidents he could've corrected.

"You want my advice?" Abe asked.

Steve looked at him. Abe was right. He didn't take advice well, not as a teenager and not as an adult. He nodded anyway.

"Life's too short to argue about stupid things, so argue less and love more."

"When did you turn into a hippie?" Steve asked without any real bite.

Abe exhaled noisily through his nose. "You remember Rebecca?"

"Your little sister?"

"Yeah. Well, about three years ago, Mama gets into an argument with her because she wanted to go on a road trip with her friends. Now, we all know these friends are bad news, but she refuses to listen to Mama, so Mama calls me and tells me to get Rebecca to listen," Abe said.

Steve had been around people long enough and had a notion of where this was going.

"You know me, Smooth Dog, I tell her how it is and she flips out at me. We fight and hang up, I tell Mama that she can go get herself in trouble, my hands are clean," Abe rubbed a hand around the back of his neck. "Rebecca went on that trip anyway, and two days later Mama gets a call that there was a wreck. Rebecca and her friend Tony were killed."

"I'm sorry, man, I didn't know," Steve said.

Abe looked Steve dead in the eye. "And the last thing I said to her was that no one could stand her attitude anymore and that she should just go do whatever she was going to do."

"You couldn't have known–"

"That's the thing I'm trying to say," Abe said. He pointed at Danny. "You never know what time will be the last time you're going to see someone, never know when an argument will turn out to be the last thing you say to them. Especially in this line of work."

Steve stared at his old friend and then out at his best friend.

Abe shrugged and took a swig of his beer. "You're not going to lose your tough guy image if you apologize. Forgive and forget. Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift, that's why it's called the present."

Steve snorted. "When did you get so wise?"

"When I started watching _Kung Fu Panda_ ," Abe smiled warmly and jerked a thumb at Danny. "Is he cool with dragons and stuff?"

"He's cool," Steve said.

Abe set his beer on the table and stripped his shirt off. He jogged down the steps, bolted across the yard, and cannonballed right into the slow rolling waves. Steve followed at a slower pace.

"I should've known," Danny said and flicked a hand out.

Orange and white fins crested the foamy waves as they curled before disappearing beneath the ocean.

Steve scratched at the label on the bottle in his hand before speaking. "You know, I trust you with my life."

Danny's brows went up as he looked to the side at him. "A little too much, judging by how you run into dangerous situations with only me as your backup. It's more like blind faith that I'll always be right behind you."

"And I trust your instincts," Steve added casually. Danny eyed him, but held his tongue. He took that as a prompt to continue. "I didn't see how Bishop was a threat or viable suspect, but I should've listened to you when you said something felt off about him."

"Huh," Danny said. He glanced out at the ocean and sort of chuckled. "I feel like this is an attempt at an apology."

Steve left it there. Advice was never something he was good at taking, and apologizing was never something he was good at doing. He knew that Danny already knew that and would understand what he was trying to do. Hopefully.

Danny's hand swept out at the short snouted Amphibious dragon head that broke the surface of the water a little way off shore. "You know, I think I like this friend of yours. He's a good influence on you."

Steve cracked a smirk.

* * *

 **Shark Bait is good people. Danny likes him. He may regret it when he sees how he acts around a box of fireworks...**

 **Next week on "Dragons", the team goes undercover with scant clues and vague information. As expected, the operation starts to unravel with possible dire consequences.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	55. Fact 52

**Ah. My precious. I worked hard on my precious...**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #52: It's always fight, flight, or freeze, no matter the species.**

 **Season: Late Season 3**

As the hazy fog started to lift bit by bit, it was replaced by a thudding in his head that increased in intensity the more aware he became. He groaned. The darkness and the fog were painless. He'd rather just go back under instead of face whatever had happened to him now. Falling back into the bliss of unawareness, he ignored the outside world and the encroaching pain.

Hands brushed over him and a muffled voice attempted to penetrate the fog. Fingers briefly landed on his face with a light touch that soon turned into a rapid tapping that eventually culminated with, not quite a slap, but a firm palm to his cheek when he didn't respond.

"…nny, wake up…come on…."

The unrelenting poking and prodding forcefully dragged him out of his comfortable haze no matter how hard he tried to stay in it. Seeing that his brain was awake enough to receive information, his body fired off several signals, much to his dismay.

His groan was louder and throatier this time. Yep. This was why he wanted to stay in the fog. Screaming muscles, aching bones, stinging cuts, and a throbbing headache had all been waiting to greet him when he woke up. One thing didn't necessarily hurt more than the other, everything worked in tandem to produce one giant pain.

"…stubborn…wake up…."

His forehead crinkled in confusion as a cold sensation settled on it. Another hand grabbed his wrist and placed his own hand on the icepack to keep it in place. He willed his arm to stay steady even though he could feel the tremors dancing through the muscles. He licked his lips, tasting blood from a split on the lower one.

"Wha'…?" he slurred. "You get the…license plate of the…car that hit me?"

"Think it was more of a semi-truck than a car, Sleeping Beauty."

Wait a minute. That wasn't Steve's voice. Where was his partner? Usually the big goof was right there at his side whenever he got hurt. Even if half of the time it was said goof's fault.

"Steve?" he asked, cracking his eyes open and reeling for a moment despite being flat on the ground.

The blurry image of a woman's face leaned into his field of vision. "McGarrett's going to throw a fit when he hears about this."

* * *

 _Earlier…._

Kono sat on her haunches and ran the back of her wrist across her brow. All she could be grateful for at this particular moment in time was that it wasn't the middle of summer. That being said, the spring here on Molokai was miserable, with temps averaging in the high seventies and low eighties while the humidity stayed between sixty to seventy percent. And it rained. And they were in the jungle. With no air conditioner in their shared hut. Only a fan.

"You okay?"

She glanced over her shoulder at Chin also sitting on his knees in the community garden. He tossed her a bottle of water and she drank greedily.

"You know, I've always heard that cucumbers were hard to grow in Hawaii because of the nematodes and fruit flies," Chin said as he twisted a healthy specimen off its mother plant and placed it in the basket.

"I think I heard someone say that they bury Malaysian Water Claw in the soil beds every year. Acts like some kind of natural pesticide," Kono said. With a grunt she got back to work pulling onions out of the ground a row over from the cucumbers.

"Well, it certainly helps kill off intestinal parasites," Chin commented quietly.

Kono did a quick sweep of the huge garden to make sure that the others weren't in earshot. The three others that had joined them in the harvesting were clear on the other side where the melons were. She pivoted on the balls of her feet so she and Chin could talk with only a leafy green barrier between them.

"Two weeks and we've still got nothing," she said, handing a cucumber to him over the plants.

"I know," Chin acknowledged. His eyes flicked up to her and then back to the plants. "I overheard Angel and Roman talking in the showers last night."

"About what?"

"About getting tired of waiting," he said and shot a look over at Angel on the other side of the garden. "I think whatever they were doing ground to a halt just before we got here. The people that showed up two days ago might be buyers, or overseers here to check on their operation."

Kono chewed the inside of her cheek in thought. "Think they know about the tip we got at the dragon market a couple weeks ago?"

Chin shook his head. He twisted another cucumber off the plant and rubbed his thumb over its slightly muddy skin. "I think they're off kilter since whoever this Murakami was disappeared and now since Kern hasn't shown yet."

"Because he's laying unconscious in a hospital bed," she muttered, inspecting a cucumber that was still too small to be picked. "What're we going to do?"

"Steve had some interesting news when I checked in last night."

"What?"

"Says he came up with a plan to get this moving quicker."

She frowned and dug her dirty fingers through her nearly sweat matted hair. "Don't tell me that he's planning on showing up here. They've got him pegged as a cop after that whole accident that put Kern in the hospital a few days ago. Like Danny said, the good Samaritan in him got him nixed for undercover work with this case."

"He didn't say a whole lot since we're trying to keep the conversations short, but he said that backup was coming," Chin dusted his hands off on his jeans and aimed a perked brow at his cousin.

"Should we find something to duck behind?" she joked, standing up and offering Chin a hand.

"I hope not," Chin said. He gathered the basket full of cucumbers and followed the row to the edge of the garden with Kono tailing him.

"Hey, Kona, Koa, over here."

Kono set her basket of onions next to the cucumbers before heading over to the man known as Angel Woods. He was a young Latino man that, according to what he had told them, originally hailed from Miami, Florida. Right now, he was wearing only a pair of shorts that left his slim, muscular torso on display.

"What's up?" Chin asked with an easy smile and a fist bump, sliding back into the persona of Koa Ka'aukai, older brother to Kono's persona Kona Ka'aukai.

"Not much, man," Angel said. He flashed a bright smile at Kono. "And coffee girl looks like she's been working hard."

"Hey, brah, remember what I told you about the coffee girl thing," Kono reminded with a raised fist and a devilish grin.

"I'll go a few rounds with you any day, girl," Angel laughed. He turned back to Chin. "Boss man said that we've got a couple of newbies showing up today and wants you two other newbies to show them to their hut."

"We didn't get to show the other new guys to their huts a couple days ago," Kono said.

"Those were VIPs, girl, long timers like Cody and me get to show them around."

"I see. Leave the fresh meat to scrub shower floors, pull weeds, and pick veg. We get all the fun jobs, huh?" Chin said.

Angel clapped his hand on his shoulder. "Just be glad that's all you're doing. I had to scrub toilets when I first moved in."

Chin and Kono chuckled and took off for the collection of huts in the center of the property. The property was owned by Harry Kahananui, the apparent leader of the community.

Back when they had first been put on the scent of this case by a concerned citizen at the dragon market, their initial thoughts had been that this was a religious compound hidden away in the deep jungles of Molokai. Much to their surprise, when Chin and Kono went under two weeks ago, they found that it really was more of a gated community, but instead of fancy houses they lived in huts and had to use community showers.

They also found out pretty quickly that more than half of the residents had some kind of dragon lineage. And that a good number of them were skittish when they tried to get close to them.

"A couple of newbies," Kono said as they trekked up a hill to the elevated perch the central hub of living arrangements was situated on. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That we may wind up ducking behind something sooner rather than later? Yeah," Chin concurred.

They had just crested the hill when a white Jeep drove by them slowly. A man they knew as Cody Fletcher raised two fingers in a wave and meandered down the road to where they kept the three vehicles that the community, or rather Harry, owned. Hardly anyone left the property. There was an unspoken agreement between the cousins that there was a reason why, and it was a bit unsettling.

Taking a left and walking by a row of small huts, they made their way to the mess hall where breakfast was served in the morning and where the occasional gathering was held in the evening. That's where they assumed Harry would have had these newcomers dropped off.

Harry's warm and friendly voice always preceded his appearance. They could hear him welcoming the newcomers long before they rounded the corner to the front entrance of the mess hall and saw them.

Kono blamed it on a loose board on the porch when she almost tripped. She quickly composed herself before Harry could catch the confused look on her face.

"Ah, Kona, Koa, I want you to meet these people," Harry waved them over. He was a Native Hawaiian man with hair that had prematurely gone gray, and always projected the personality of the ocean on a calm and sunny afternoon. Right now, he was smiling a smile they had never seen on him in their two weeks of being there. "This is Timothy Kern."

Kono offered up her hand to the short blond man in the jeans and t-shirt. He was sporting slight bruising on his left cheek. Fresh by her estimate. Happened maybe yesterday. She tried not to stare and forced herself to act like she didn't know these people.

"I'm Kona and this is my brother Koa," she said with a tiny grin.

"It's a pleasure," the man said.

Harry gestured toward the other person, who was also sporting a cut and bruising on her forehead. "And this is who we've been waiting for. This is Doctor Carrie Kern."

The tall woman shook their hands firmly. While Harry's back was turned Kono shot a look at Chin and then at their undercover teammate. They had expected to see Danny show up at some point, but not Mauna.

* * *

He had done undercover work before, in his younger years when he was fresh out of the Academy. Vice liked new faces for the drug scene. And while it had seemed exciting and like a chance to prove his worth, after a few months of hanging out with people he either wanted to pummel or throw in jail, it lost its glamour. After that he didn't do many undercover ops, only one or two in the few years before he uprooted and moved to Hawaii.

Until now. But only at the nagging of his partner and boss.

"Don't really picture you as a Timothy," Kono said as she and Chin led him and Mauna to their new residence.

"How about a Jasper?" Danny asked. "That was the first cover I ever took on. Jasper Stone the stoner."

"Nice," Kono grinned.

Danny looked down as Mauna slid her hand into his and intertwined their fingers. He glanced up at her. Her eyes swiveled in a subtle gesture to look behind them. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Harry standing on the mess hall porch watching them walk away.

"Carrie?" Chin asked and pointed at Mauna.

She nodded stiffly. "Apparently."

Chin looked at Danny with a raised brow. Danny quietly told him that he'd explain once they were inside the hut and hopefully out of earshot of Harry or any others.

The hut was small and cozy. It had a bedroom, a kitchenette, and a living room of sorts with a wicker couch. The bed was a double with clean sheets and a mosquito net draped around it. A ceiling fan hung from the bare beams in each room, their steady cycles barely making a dent in the sticky heat penetrating the hut through the screens in the open north facing windows in both the bedroom and living room.

Danny shut the door behind them and rubbed his hands together. "Okay, just for the record, all of this was Steve's cockamamie plan."

"Imagine that," Kono commented.

Mauna sat on the wicker couch and crossed one leg over the other, adjusting her long, floral wraparound skirt before it could slide too high up her thigh. "Also for the record, I didn't volunteer for this one this time."

"Okay," Chin said slowly. "So, why are you involved at all?"

"Mrs. Kern woke up yesterday morning briefly," Danny explained. His hands flitted and fluttered about, the only outlet for his nervous energy at the moment. "Steve and I managed to convince the doctor to let us talk to her. Turns out, _she_ was the one that was supposed to meet with these guys at the airport, not Mr. Kern. When we asked why she was going to come all the way out here, she told us that she had received a letter, like an actual letter written out on paper and everything, offering her a job."

Kono frowned and set her hands on her hips. "Hold on. I thought when you guys ran her and her husband after the accident he came up as an online teacher and she worked at a natural grocer in California. Why would Harry offer her a job?"

"This is where I come in," Mauna said.

"Seems like it was more than meets the eye with Mrs. Kern," Danny said. "You see, it wasn't because of her day job that she was contacted. It sounds like, from what she told us after we explained that she would've been working for some shady people, at least, that she works at a dragon market as a doctor and that's how she was contacted. The letter came to her via the smugglers and traders there at her local market."

Chin and Kono looked at Mauna in understanding. If Mrs. Kern was hired because of her status as a dragon doctor, then if they wanted to send an undercover in as her they needed someone that at least knew the basics.

"I'm assuming that since it was through the market, Harry doesn't know what she looks like, only a name and job," Chin said.

"And so Steve had this brilliant idea to go recruit her," Danny flapped a hand at Mauna, "to play the part since she really is a doctor with knowledge of dragons."

"Unfortunately, I'm not a cop. I'm not really undercover material," Mauna grunted with a loose gesture to herself.

Chin folded his arms over his chest and leaned against one of the walls there in the living room. "And all of this on your face is what, exactly?"

"Ah, this," Danny said, lightly touching the bruising on his left cheekbone with a grimace. "Window dressing according to Steve. The caveman decided to reason out something for once and came to the conclusion that since they knew about the accident but not how bad it was, they'd be a little suspicious if we showed up without a few scrapes and bruises."

"And?" Kono pressed.

Danny shot a look at Mauna as she snorted in amusement. "Steve didn't want to use makeup to fake bruises since that could wash off with sweat, which is pouring down my back right now because there's no freaking air conditioner in here. What kind of hell is this?"

Chin eyed Mauna in search of a straight answer, which she provided without beating around the bush. "McGarrett slugged him."

Kono's jaw dropped and Danny threw up a hand to forestall any remarks. "Don't worry, the animal has a matching black eye. We're not even close to even, but it's a start."

Kono turned toward Mauna with wide eyes, looking at the bruise on her forehead.

"This?" Mauna pointed at the scrape and bruised knot on her hairline. "Got this from when I walked into a cabinet door at the hospital during my last night shift. Couldn't find the idiot that left it open, fortunately for them."

Chin shook his head. "On the bright side, I think they're going to resume their operation now. A few new people have trickled in over the last few days, but it seems like they've been waiting for someone to arrive, and I think it was Mrs. Kern."

"Come on, cuz, we better get back out to the garden before Angel or Harry gets suspicious," Kono headed toward the door.

"Breakfast is at seven, lunch at noon, and dinner at six in the mess hall. The showers and restrooms are in the building next to the mess hall, and there's another set of restrooms down on the other end of the village that way. If you go in there, keep your ears open, they're more prone to talking while showering," Chin said and followed his cousin out the door, closing it securely behind him.

Danny made a face. "Community showers. Joy."

"Some places like this only have a bucket and a bar of soap," Mauna said. She hefted herself up off the couch. "What exactly should I be looking or listening for?"

Danny shrugged and tossed one hand out. "The tipster at the market didn't specify what shady business this place was connected with, only that something was going on here. We didn't find much during the initial search."

Mauna blew out a breath. She combed her fingers through her copper hair, pulled it back, and wrapped a hairband around it in a ponytail as she headed for the door. "I'm going to wander, then."

"I'll come with you," Danny said. He stepped out onto the creaky old porch, held the door open for her, and then locked it with the key Harry had given them.

"You afraid I'll get into trouble by myself?" Mauna asked.

"Oh no, Miss Molotov Cocktail, I don't know what boneheaded stunt you could pull in a place like this, where we have very vague information to go on and possibly sketchy people surrounding us," Danny tucked his hands into his jean pockets, following her down the steps and onto the dirt road that separated one row of huts from the others.

"Never going to let me live that down," Mauna muttered.

"I think it's rather fitting that you were Steve's doctor. Two utter nutcases working in tandem, one almost burning the place down and the other forcing me to drop an elevator car with my bare hands," Danny said.

The community, or village, or whatever it was deemed, had the sounds of life and nature in it. Quiet voices from people performing various chores and jobs filled the human aspect while the constant drone of chickens and the occasional bleating of sheep filled the nature aspect. It was a calming atmosphere until it was interrupted. The constant drone of the chickens erupted into frantic squawking and a few moments later a dog came barreling around the mess hall.

The dog shifted course to charge at them.

Mauna held her ground. Rugged blood red scales armored her forearms.

"Down, girl, down," Danny quipped and dropped to his knee. The big black lab hit him full force, tail wagging so hard that his entire body went from side to side as he slobbered over Danny's arms and tried to lick his face. "He's just a big friendly pooch, aren't you?"

"Samson!"

They looked up at the young woman rounding the mess hall. Dressed in running shorts and a loose tank top, she glistened with sweat like she had been chasing the dog for a while. She stopped and planted her hands on her hips when the dog stared defiantly at her, but he didn't move from Danny's embrace.

"So help me, if I have to come get you, you can lick the dirt off the floor for dinner tonight," she threatened and pointed her finger to the ground right in front of her feet.

The dog bolted over towards her, still grinning with his tongue flopping out and his tail doing crazy circles. She shoved a collar over his head, snapped a leash on it, and walked over towards them.

"Sorry about that," she apologized. She stood as tall as Danny with a sleek build, her arms and legs being slim but toned. Her medium length brown and blonde balayaged hair was fastened back into two braids to keep it out of the way. "The dork slipped out of his collar again. I'm still trying to figure out a fence to keep him in. Think I would've gotten a better system worked out for as long as I've been here."

"Don't worry about it. I love dogs," Danny said. He offered his hand up to her. "Timothy Kern."

Mauna leaned her elbow on his shoulder and shook the woman's hand next. "I'm his wife Carrie."

Danny kept an impassive face as Mauna continued to lean on him, using her superior height to her advantage. He fleetingly wondered if this was revenge for the Miss Molotov Cocktail comment.

"Oh, Kern. You're the chick that Harry mentioned," the woman's voice sobered and flattened somewhat. "Dude's been antsy since you were supposed to get here Monday. What happened?"

"Car accident on Oahu," Mauna pointed at the bruising on Danny's cheek and the scrape on her forehead. "Screwed up our travel plans."

"We just got in," Danny added, dipping his shoulder in a subtle attempt to get Mauna off of him.

The woman nodded half-heartedly and scratched the back of her neck. "That sucks. Guess I'll see you dudes later."

As she started to walk off, Danny called after her, "I didn't catch your name?"

"My bad. It's Europa," she saluted them with two fingers and disappeared between the shower building and the mess hall.

Danny finally shrugged out from under Mauna's elbow once the young woman was gone. He loosely flicked a few fingers in her direction. "How old did she seem to you?"

"Twenty-ish," Mauna said.

"That's what I thought," Danny murmured as they continued on their meander around the huts.

* * *

Chin glanced up from the marigolds he was busy planting when a hearty laugh erupted somewhere in the far corner of the garden. Kono lifted her head as well.

"He showed up yesterday, didn't he?" Kono asked quietly.

Chin nodded. He had been keeping tabs on the men in the camp and Kono on the women. So far he had met or at least knew of most of the men that lived in the community from his stint undercover here. This guy talking with Angel and the two women that flanked him were unknowns.

"The women were in the showers last night," Kono said, scooping dirt out of a hole and plopping the flower's roots inside. "Don't know their names, but apparently they just flew onto the islands yesterday from New York."

He patted the soil down around the flower he'd placed in the ground, glancing up at the newcomer again. He was a large black man with scruffy black facial hair and short braids that flopped over a dark bandanna tied around his head. A scar pulled at his lip in the left corner, but his bright white teeth flashing in a smile distracted from it. It was his hearty laugh that had garnered the cousins' attention.

"Think he could be a buyer? Or an owner?" Kono asked.

"Maybe," Chin said. "I don't even know where they're staying. Harry must have them in one of the huts farther out in the jungle."

Kono huffed and started to dig another hole. "Well, at least on the bright side, Steve's plan seems to have brought the hermits out of their holes and stirred them up. I just hope that it stirs up something useful and that his plan doesn't accidentally kick a wasp nest."

"Hate to break it to you, cuz, but we've been living in the wasp nest for the last two weeks, holding a stick ready to smack it as soon as we get enough evidence," Chin said.

Kono grimaced and Chin had to agree with the sentiment. In his experience, smacking wasp nests never turned out well.

* * *

Steve wasn't used to getting sidelined in operations. He'd fought through broken bones and gunshot wounds to get the job done, and yet here he was lounging in a hotel room on Molokai while the rest of his team and a civilian were undercover at a compound. Or a community, as Chin had told him it was closer to. It was maddening. He wasn't a sit on his hands and wait kind of guy. He'd even offered to set up camp in the jungle outside of the property so he'd be closer, but he'd been persuaded not to by both Chin and his partner. Better to stay as far away as he could since at least two of the residents in the community could identify him as a cop.

He nursed a Longboard and a water in alternate swigs while he scoured over files on the laptop he'd packed with him. The files consisted of records from various people living within the chain link fence that they'd managed to get real names from.

"Angel Woods," he tapped the spacebar, scrolling through the man's history. "Born on August 13, 1990 in Miami, Florida. No arrests, no sealed records, one parking ticket, employment history…."

Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. They were all the same. Every person he'd managed to dig up files on was clean. The reports from Chin, however, hinted at the possibility that there were some that weren't so clean, but they couldn't figure out real names for those ones. Only nicknames. And they got skittish when asked too many questions.

He stood up from the chair at the desk in the room. Several vertebrae popped back into place and he rolled his neck, stretched his arms behind him, and stepped up to the closed balcony door. A warm, humid breeze struck him as soon as he slid it open. He closed his eyes and leaned against the frame, inhaling the salty sea air deeply and letting it clear his mind.

A phone rang.

Immediately he reached for the sat phone, but snatched his fingers back when he realized that it wasn't Chin calling him. It was his cellphone ringing. Frowning, he swiped his thumb across the screen.

"McGarrett," he grunted.

" _Commander, I hope I am not interrupting anything important."_

"Oh, hey Max," he greeted and sat on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. "No, you're not interrupting. Just doing some research for a case."

" _You would not happen to be working on a case involving dragons, would you?"_

Steve's frown deepened. Outside of the team, only the Governor knew that they were working this case and that the cousins had been undercover for weeks, and even he didn't know how they had come across it or that it involved dragons. "Sorry, Max, it's classified. Why are you asking?"

" _It has come to my attention that I have a body that may be related to your current case. Or at least of interest to you."_

"Okay?" he asked. He didn't volunteer any details, not knowing how much Max knew. Not that he didn't trust the ME, but he was confused and worried about why and how he knew they were working a dragon related case.

" _The body was in the HPD's jurisdiction and I performed a routine autopsy on it, which included a dental record match seeing as the fingerprints were nonexistent from the time it spent in the water."_

"And? What's going on, Max? Who's the body?"

" _The match came up as Doctor Akio Murakami."_

Steve paused. That was enough of a reason to cause an uncomfortable chill to prickle along his arms and up his neck. Murakami was the person Chin had told him had gone missing around three weeks ago. The reason why the community was off kilter and not performing their normal operations, whatever those operations were. Another part of Max's statement threw him for a loop.

"Doctor?"

" _Indeed. He studied both human and dragon medicine, thus why I wanted to alert you. It may have nothing to do with his death, but I am not a detective."_

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Give me the details."

" _It appears he perished from a gunshot wound to the head. I also estimate that he was in the water for two weeks before he washed up on the North Shore where he remained for four days before the body was reported to HPD. The results of the dental records only came back to me this morning."_

"Is it possible he could have been thrown into the water off of Molokai and washed up on Oahu?"

" _I am not versed in ocean currents. However, it does sound plausible to me."_

"Thanks," Steve said and transferred from the bed to the chair. "If you find out anymore about this guy, call me right away. He may be involved in our current case."

" _I will, Commander. I am glad I could be of help."_

Steve set his phone next to the laptop and ran his hands over his face, careful not to touch his black eye. He was going to have to wait for Chin to contact him later in the evening. They now had a possible murder tied to the community.

* * *

Community showers were no friends of Danny's. He liked the security of his own bathroom. He envied Steve in his own hotel room with his own shower right now. The bum always seemed to have things go his way. Didn't have to be out in the humid jungle, had flowers show up to the office from a grateful woman he'd saved, always chose where they ate lunch, drove the Camaro all the time, reigned supreme over the TV, and got all the praise for a job well done.

Danny had to quirk a smirk, though. He had struck it rich when he arrived at the showers later that evening to find that one of the two private shower stalls was open and the one large open area with multiple shower heads and faucets attached to the walls held a handful of guys all rinsing off after the day.

He could eavesdrop and shower in peace.

Over the pitter patter of water on his head and shoulders he could hear laughing and talking. Nothing sounded of much use, but as a cop he knew that even the most innocuous piece of information could be vital and he catalogued everything he heard. His pension for remembering facts and details was something he was proud of, something that made him good at his job.

The conversation in the open showers went from recounts of the day to complaining about one of the vehicles making a strange sound to joking around. By the time Danny twisted the faucet off, he had heard a few men leave and one or two more arrive, and so far had nothing to show for his eavesdropping.

He toweled off, still tuned in to the goings on of the other showers as a faucet squeaked and the sound of another stream of water joined the others.

"Long time, no see, Angel."

That was a new, deep voice with a British accent. A London dialect, if Danny was recalling all of Rachel's relatives and their various dialects correctly. A deep, rumbling laugh accompanied a younger one.

"Jupiter, my man, it's been a while. How was New York?"

"There was a slight hiccup at one point, but you know me. I take everything in stride."

"Yeah? Hey, am I mistaken or is one of your moons missing from orbit?"

Danny furrowed his brow at the odd language. It could have been code, or it could have been slang. He slipped a pair of shorts on and continued to listen silently as he dried his hair.

"Yes, Io had to make a detour in Denver. She'll be joining us in a few days."

"Cool. I saw Callisto and Ganymede and was confused why you only had two girls hanging off you."

Danny pulled a shirt over his head and ran his fingers through his damp hair. These 'moons' sounded like girlfriends or at the very least some kind of entourage. The comment about New York and the so-called hiccup was of more interest to him, though.

The entrance door to the shower room creaked open and the conversation smoothly shifted to more mundane topics. With an irritated grunt, Danny gathered up his stuff and exited the private shower, almost running into Chin as he did.

"Excuse me, brah," Chin said with little reaction and minimal recognition.

Danny made a note to ask him later how many undercover ops the guy had been on, because he had skills at staying in character.

"You done in there?" Chin asked, pointing at the shower he had just come from.

"All yours, buddy," Danny said.

"Yo, Koa!"

Chin paused and they both looked over the low cement wall that separated the open showers from the rest of the bathroom. Three guys stood under different showerheads in all their butt naked glory, seeming to care little about privacy. Steve would fit right in.

"Koa, dude, come here," Angel waved him over. "I want you to meet this guy."

Chin set his towel and clothes on the low wall and made his way over to the far corner of the open shower where the three were clustered.

"This is Koa. He and his sister moved in about two weeks ago. They're good hard workers," Angel introduced.

"It's a pleasure," the large black man said. It was his deep and accented voice Danny had heard talking about New York. "Jupiter."

Chin grinned. "Like the planet?"

"One and the same," Jupiter's bright white teeth flashed in a smile and was followed up with the rumbling laugh.

Danny started to head for the door, deciding that he needed to leave before they became suspicious of why he was lingering so long when he supposedly didn't know any of them well.

"And that guy's Timothy."

He pivoted on his heels and waved a few fingers in greeting. Jupiter did the same.

"He's Doctor Kern's husband," Angel added.

Jupiter nodded approvingly and turned the faucet off. Danny made his get away while Jupiter wrapped a towel around his waist and continued his conversation with Chin and Angel.

He walked away from the building next to the mess hall, grimacing at the sensation of feeling damp again from the humidity of the jungle. Despite the sun having already set, it was only a few degrees cooler and the drizzle they'd had that afternoon had upped the mugginess. This was another reason why he enjoyed his own shower. There was no need to go trekking around outside after he got out.

Once he was back at the hut, he needed to go fishing around in one of the duffle bags to retrieve the sat phone they had smuggled in. He needed to let Steve know about the mysterious Jupiter and his trip to New York. Maybe he'd be able to dig up something that coincided with the time the man was there that could finally connect tangible evidence to this community village thing.

Danny slowed his step fractionally. The hum of insects in the canopy and surrounding foliage created a thick white noise that was hard to hear over, but he was sure there was the sound of footsteps on the ground behind him. He glanced over his shoulder with narrowed eyes and saw nothing.

In a community such as this with no specific curfew, there was a chance that people were up and roving about, either heading to the showers or visiting with each other. A few of the huts had one or two windows lit up with a lamp. People were definitely awake.

Shaking his head at his paranoia, he continued on his way to the hut. The sooner he got inside, the better.

He was a whole ten feet away when an arm locked around his neck and a hand slid over his mouth.

* * *

Mauna was no stranger to open showers. Years of traveling in different countries and staying in sketchy places left her just glad that she wasn't standing in a river with a bar of soap. At least here she had warm water and no chance of having an issue with leeches.

The two private showers in the women's bathroom were taken and only one other woman stood in the open showers. Funnily enough, it was the one woman that she had met.

"Long day?" Mauna asked as she picked a showerhead a comfortable distance away from Europa and twisted the faucet on.

"Long day, gonna probably be a long night," Europa muttered. She turned her back to the wall and held her hair up, letting the water soak the underside. "You comin' tonight?"

Mauna cupped her hands and splashed the tepid water in her face, buying herself time to come up with a credible excuse as to why she had no clue what Europa was talking about. "If I was invited, no one sure as hell gave me any directions of where I'm going."

Europa snorted a laugh. "Harry does that sometimes. Forgets that not everyone knows the property like the back of their hand like he does. And don't worry, you're invited, Doc. I'll take you out there."

"Any specific time or is it at everyone's leisure?" she asked, casting a sidelong look at the young woman.

"I'll wait for you to get done showering, then we'll head out," Europa said.

Mauna subtly eyed the purple blossoms dotting her ribcage and the older yellow stains here and there. A couple of scars on her arms and shoulders rang a few bells in the medic's mind. In a normal situation she would want to examine the bruising and scarring, however, she was unsure how to handle it as an undercover civilian.

She could've palmed her forehead. She was an undercover _doctor_.

"Nice colors," she said, looking pointedly and obviously at her torso now, forgoing any subtlety.

Europa shrugged and turned the faucet off. She squeezed the water from her hair while replying, "Always been a scrapper."

Mauna opened her mouth to ask the specifics about the injuries, but Europa quickly grabbed her towel and started to dry off when the woman from one of the private showers emerged. Mauna hummed lowly at her lost chance to talk to her. The young woman threw on a pair of capris and a tank top before disappearing through the entrance door.

Kono looked at Mauna and then averted her eyes by looking at the door. "You actually talked to Europa?"

Mauna nodded. She turned the faucet off, wrapped a towel around her chest, and approached the low cement wall. "Met her earlier today. Kind of young, isn't she?"

"I wouldn't know. She's barely said two words to me," Kono said and made a face.

"You ever see anyone get into any fights while you've been here?" Mauna asked as she dried off, not having to worry about her hair since she had kept it clipped up off her neck.

Kono carded her fingers under her hair. "Cody and another guy got into it once, and I think Angel mentioned something about a cat fight a week ago."

Mauna frowned and pulled on her clothes. "Those bruises were fresh. Maybe a day or two old. Some of the others were a week or more. So, apparently, I'm going to a thing tonight."

"The thing," Kono chuckled. "Yeah, I'm supposed to be going, too, but I don't know where the thing is. Do you?"

"No. Tag along with me and Europa. She's taking me out there, wherever there is," Mauna said. She buttoned her jeans and checked the knot on the sarong she had tied into a halter top. "You ready to go, Kona?"

"Totally. Sounds like fun, Carrie," Kono said and followed her out.

* * *

'Fun' may have been a bit of an exaggeration. Europa led them on a small dirt trail through the jungle that Kono wasn't even aware existed. In the two weeks she had been there she had yet to stumble across it. The trailhead was hidden amongst the lower huts that stood separate from the main hub of living and covertly wound through the underbrush.

"How long have you lived here?" Kono asked their guide.

"Long enough to know the property," Europa said idly as she finished her second braid of hair and tied a band around the end.

It was the same type of answer that she had always gotten from her. Some of the residents were extremely reserved and downright skittish when either she or Chin had tried to talk to them, even in friendly conversation. Europa had been one of them.

"Where's the hubby, Carrie?" Kono switched her attention to Mauna. She felt that Danny should have probably been with them as should have Chin. However, she had seen neither hide nor hair of them since her cousin had gone to the showers.

"Was taking a shower last time I checked," Mauna said. She raised a brow at her.

Kono shivered involuntarily. There was something off about this. The boys disappearing, a thing going on in the middle of the jungle, people who refused to talk. A gut feeling had her worrying.

"Tonight are the dudes, tomorrow are the chicks," Europa said, as if that explained everything.

Mauna and Kono shared a disconcerted look with each other.

The hum of the insects was gradually replaced by the hum of people. They came to the edge of a dip in the ground and got a good look at the conglomeration. People with flashlights and torches stood around a circular opening in the ground that was lit by several lights around the rim.

"Welcome to the Pit," Europa spread her arms wide to encompass the entirety of the scene.

They followed her down the slope to the crowd of people that were still gathering, coming from all directions. Several of them parted to let Europa through and to in turn let Kono and Mauna through. Europa took them right up to the edge of the Pit.

It was a massive hole in the ground. Around seventy feet in diameter and twenty feet at its deepest, it must have been part of a lava tube system before it collapsed in on itself. The side they stood on was the tall side. The rim dipped directly across from them where the ground had slid and given way, rendering it a mere ten feet deep on that side in that one particular section. The floor of the Pit must have been sandy when dry, but it had morphed into mud from the recent rains.

Kono dug her fingers through her hair and attempted to slow her hammering heart. This was all too familiar to a case they had work only a few months ago. Only this was a lot larger than an empty swimming pool.

"Welcome back, my most honored friends and family!"

Kono recognized the voice as Harry, who was standing in the middle of the Pit. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Europa roll her eyes and set her hands on her cocked hips.

"It's been close to three weeks now since we've gathered around the Pit. Are you ready now?"

The crowd cheered. Most of the crowd cheered. A few people remained passive and merely watched.

"And now that we've got a doctor in the house again, we can pick up where we left off!"

More cheering. Kono looked at Mauna, but the doctor had donned the cold mask that she tended to wear when on duty in the ER. A lack of emotion would be more useful than a display of it right now. Kono hoped that she could keep it under control with whatever happened next.

"I give you tonight's hazer, Angel Maker!"

"Crap," Kono hissed under her breath.

A leafy green and white Amphibious/Drake dragon took Harry's place in the center of the Pit, having appeared from an offshoot tunnel connected to the opening in the ground. A handful of men were pushed out of a tunnel opposite of the one Angel had come from. A man that Kono pinpointed as Cody darted in amongst them and removed the blindfolds from their eyes. Of the six men present, Kono only really feared for two of them.

Chin and Danny.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Told you guys I was working on some bigger chapters. Boom. Here it is. I've been wanting to write these ones for a while.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", the team decides to stay undercover a little longer to gather more concrete evidence on Harry and what's really going on. Unfortunately, Murphy's Law is in effect.**

 **So. What do guys want to see? I have several chapters planned out clear into the middle of Season 4, but I want to hear from you guys. It's been a while since I've asked what you guys want to see personally. :)**

 **Thank you for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	56. Fact 52 Part II

**Forgot to mention, Jupiter is totally voiced by Idris Elba. Yeah.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #52: It's always fight, flight, or freeze, no matter the species.**

 **Season: Late Season 3**

 **Part II**

"McGarrett's going to throw a fit when he hears about this."

The image of the blurry woman sharpened as Danny blinked. It was Mauna looming over him. He groaned again and pushed himself up on his elbow, swallowing as the ground swayed for a moment before steadying. His brows furrowed at the gritty, earthy taste in his mouth.

"Nothing's broken," Mauna said, as if that made everything better.

"Are you sure? Because it sure feels like a steamroller chased me down and flattened me," Danny grunted. He inhaled and finished sitting up, pleased when the ground didn't tilt more than it originally had.

"No, that would've been Angel and Bolt."

Danny inclined his head up to the new voice at the other side of the small hut they were in. Chin sat on a cot with Kono cleaning a cut by his eye. With a touch of jealousy, he noted that his teammate didn't look nearly as bad as he felt. Wincing, he shifted until he was leaning against the wall, grateful for the support at his back.

"Any nausea?" Mauna asked.

"No," Danny said. Delicately, he prodded at the cuts and fresh bruises on his face. There was a scrape and a bump under the icepack near his right temple which throbbed in time with his headache.

"Dizzy?"

"When I first woke up, but it's fine now. I think the hangover from the Devil's Tongue was worse than this," he said and got an agreement from Chin.

Mauna appeared right in his face, staring directly into his eyes. "I don't think you have a concussion. Can't be one hundred percent sure without any equipment, but I think you lost consciousness from lack of oxygen."

He frowned. "What? Are you kidding me?"

"Do you remember the free-for-all?" Kono asked from across the room.

"If you mean do I remember being tossed into a giant hole in the ground with a dragon and five other guys and basically just getting told to try not to die, then yes, I remember that," he said with one hand flicking out to gesture angrily. "I also remember telling myself that I had to make it through without blowing my cover because I needed to kick Steve's ass for this ridiculous plan and for inadvertently sending us into a fight club."

"Do you remember when you lost consciousness?" Mauna pressed. One brow perked into a sharp arch.

Danny closed his eyes, mentally flitting through the events that would now appear in his dreams and wake him up in the middle of the night. He supposed that if he had truly wanted to get a good night's sleep, he should have chosen a different job. Right now, though, all he could remember was up to a certain point in the fight and then it was all fuzzy.

"Uh…one, maybe two, of the other guys shifted," he said.

"And?"

"And then I don't remember," he opened his eyes and looked between the three of them, waiting for an explanation.

Kono shrugged as she perched next to her cousin on the cot. "I don't know, brah, I couldn't see. It just looked like a bunch of dudes and dragons jacked up on testosterone beating the crap out of each other."

"You got pinned under Angel while he was fighting with Bolt," Chin said. "I think you panicked."

The feeling of scales and a massive weight on his back along with his face in the mud sent an involuntary shiver down Danny's spine. His heartbeat quickened and his breaths came shallowly and rapidly. He remembered. He also remembered why he hadn't wanted to remember. In an utter freak out, he had passed out instead of shifting fully, torn between revealing himself as a Cliff or getting crushed under another dragon.

"Angel finally managed to get Bolt off of him and moved the fight away from you so Cody could drag you out of the arena," Chin continued.

Danny snorted. "I guess I'm the little weak link of the group, huh? First one out, and not to mention, I was only taken down because I got sat on."

Chin shook his head. "Cheer up, brah, you were only the second one out."

"And you?" he pointed at him.

"Fourth one," Chin said. He rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders. "But, that was by choice."

"Uh huh," Danny glanced at Kono to see if that was true.

"He feigned unconsciousness to get pulled from the arena before he really got hurt," Mauna said. She stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. "Almost gave me a heart attack when he gets dropped off here and pops up immediately after the other guys leave."

Danny made a face at Chin and merely received a smirk. He looked back at Mauna. "How about the other schmucks?"

"Lots of cuts and bruises, a couple of fractured ribs, a twisted ankle, and a busted nose," she listed off. "Other than that, nothing serious. I wrapped the first guy's ankle and then you got brought here. Cleaned up your face and tried to get the mud out of your nose and mouth, had a moment of thinking I was going to have to tell McGarrett that his partner had brain damage."

Other than a pounding headache that he hoped either a few Ibuprofen or a bit of Fire Root would take care of, his brain felt relatively undamaged. Only his pride was wounded. Well, his pride and various parts of his body.

"So, how did we go from a peaceful jungle community to a frat boy style hazing?" Danny questioned.

"I don't know," Chin sighed as he rose from the cot. "I need to get into contact with Steve tonight and let him know what we just found out."

"Think he'll want to do the take down tonight?" Kono asked.

Chin set his hands on his hips with a thoughtful look. "I think we need more information. They may have a fight club, but I think something else is going on, too. Quite a few of the residents here are skittish for a reason and I want to know why. Plus, I want to know how Murakami fits into all of this."

"I'm going to take a stab at it and guess that means that we're undercover for an indefinite amount of time," Mauna said.

"Just until we get enough details," Chin said.

Danny slowly gathered his feet under him. "Chin's right. If this really is a fight club, the only ones who apparently didn't want to be in that fight was us two. It seems like everyone else knew what was going on and it was a consensual fight on private property, and if that's true, the likelihood of them pressing charges against Angel or each other is slim, unless Chin and I want to press charges."

"Did you two see any betting going on?" Chin asked.

Kono and Mauna shook their heads.

"Then we technically could arrest them, but the charges would be weak, and they could slip through our fingers and continue doing what they're doing," Chin pinched the bridge of his nose. "We need more solid evidence than our word against theirs."

"At least we know what this place is now," Kono said. She got up and followed Chin out of the door of the med hut.

Danny tossed the ice bag onto the cot and smoothed down his mud and sweat caked hair. He was definitely going to kick Steve's butt for this.

* * *

With the insects still humming up above in the canopy and the sticky humidity lessening as the night went on, Europa trekked across the narrow dirt path back toward her hut. She had stayed behind after the majority of the crowd had dispersed to talk to some of the fighters that had arrived in the recent days. Most of them she knew from previous encounters, but a few were newcomers. Probably drawn in by Harry's warm and appealing personality.

Europa laced her fingers behind her head. Harry. One day, she would get out of here and he could to do nothing about it. She huffed out a sigh. That day seemed further and further away each morning. Each fight. Each time she talked to him.

She glanced around at the darkened jungle as she came out of her thoughts. Her gut fluttered. This was why she liked having Samson with her. Dogs were more attuned to approaching danger.

A twig snapping right behind her had her pivoting smoothly and swinging with a deadly accurate strike. The person managed to duck.

"Still a punch first, ask questions later type, I see," the deep voice instantly settled her hackles.

"Damn it, Jupiter, why are you creeping around?" Europa dropped her defensive posture and smacked his meaty bicep.

He chuckled softly. "Your mind was in another place, I could tell. I could've been an elephant walking up behind you and you wouldn't have heard me."

She scowled at him, pushing all thoughts of Harry to the side. "Jerk."

"Now you're resorting to name calling," he nodded seriously, but cracked a grin at her. "I just wanted to check up on one of my moons."

"Just for your information, I don't orbit around you," Europa said. She ran a hand over her braids and smiled back at him. "Even if your ego is big enough to have a gravitational field of its own."

Jupiter put a hand to his heart. "I'm wounded."

She crossed her toned arms over her small bust and leaned her weight back on one leg. "Speaking of moons, I only saw Ganymede and Callisto. Where's Io?"

"We dropped her off in Denver on our way back from New York. She wanted to challenge Glacier again, and hopefully win," he said. He clasped a large hand on her shoulder. "But how have you been, baby girl? Kicking ass and taking names?"

"All day, every day," she shrugged. Kicking ass and taking names only at the behest of Harry, anyway.

Jupiter tilted his head to the side with a raised brow. "If you don't want to talk, then don't. The girls and I are going to spar tomorrow. You're welcome to come. Callisto has a few new techniques she wants to show you."

"Cool. Maybe I'll show up," she said. She smirked. "Maybe I'll have a chance to redo that punch, actually lay you out this time."

The easily six foot three inches man laughed as he turned to walk away. "Dream big, kid, dream big."

* * *

Morning sunlight seeped through the flimsy shades in the living room. It didn't seep directly in since the window was north facing, but it lit up the room enough to wake Danny out of his light sleep on the wicker couch. He rubbed his eyes and let out a long, low groan as he sat up. Every muscle and joint protested, all of them having conspired to stiffen through the night.

"Only way to help it is to move."

Danny combed his fingers through his hair to push it into some resemblance of its normal style. Mauna leaned against the wall opposite of the couch.

"You know, I didn't have you pegged as a skirt person," Danny said.

She tossed a water bottle to him. "Didn't think I wore scrubs all the time, did you?"

"Oh, I don't know. Every time I've seen you, that's what you had on," he said and greedily drank. His hope was that his muscles would appreciate the water and relax a little. "I kind of figured that you'd be a cargo shorts and camouflage kind of person, what with you being nuts like Steve. Not a sarong and tank top person."

She glanced down at her knee length red and gold Mesoamerican patterned skirt and white tank top. "I'm hot blooded."

Danny shook his head, interpreting that statement to mean that she liked to wear cool and airy clothing. He disappeared into the bedroom to throw on a pair of shorts and a clean t-shirt before they headed to the mess hall for breakfast.

"What's the goal today? More surveillance?"

Danny tugged the dark shirt over his head. He sighed when he looked in the mirror and once again finger combed his hair into order. "Chin talked to Steve last night and apparently this mysterious Murakami that Chin and Kono have been hearing about was actually murdered. His body washed up on Oahu."

"And?"

Somewhat satisfied with his look, he walked into the living room and headed for the door. "We need to ask around without raising suspicion, see if anybody knew if someone had it out for Murakami. You'll probably be able to get away with it easier since you're replacing him."

Mauna frowned. "One slip of the tongue and then we're in trouble."

"Just throw a Molotov cocktail at them," Danny quipped. He wasn't prepared for the cuff to the back of the head as they exited the hut. "Hey! What's the matter with you?"

"I was only a love tap, honey," Mauna grabbed his hand.

Danny waggled a few fingers at Angel, Harry, and Cody as they walked by. They said their short greetings and then continued on their separate ways, the trio of men heading west where the road led into the community while Danny and Mauna headed for the mess hall.

There wasn't much choice in food when they arrived. It was one of those places where the rule was to eat what was there or go hungry, and what was there were scrambled eggs with ham chunks, or maybe they were spam chunks, and a variety of freshly chopped fruits.

Chin and Kono were at a table with a couple of other people, but Danny didn't risk sitting close to them. He didn't want Harry or any of the others to get the idea that they knew each other better than people who had just met should. Instead, they chose the open bench spaces at the picnic table that Europa was sat at.

Her gray eyes darted between them warily.

"These seats taken?" Danny asked.

She shook her head and scooted over so she wasn't dead center on the bench seat. "Never seen a dude get trapped between two dragons like that. Real classy."

His hands fluttered around expressively to distract from the red rushing to the tips of his ears. "That's one hell of a hazing you guys have. Survival of the fittest, huh?"

Europa nodded. "That's how Harry weeds out the dudes that don't really want to be here. You did good, though. Didn't try to climb the wall out of the Pit like some guys do."

Mauna stabbed her fork into her eggs and looked around Danny at her. "I'm surprised no one's died yet with the crap medical supplies in that med hut. Did your previous doctor keep it so understocked?"

Danny had to admit, that was a smooth transition into finding out about Murakami. Despite the constant reminders that she wasn't a cop, she was catching on fast.

"Murakami? Dude was okay as a doc, was kind of a nervous wreck all the time," Europa shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know about his stocking habits, but he could set a joint and bandage a broken nose, so that's all anyone really ever cared about."

The 'nervous wreck' bit stuck out to Danny. Was it Murakami's personality, or an outside force causing stress in his life? While he shoveled not half-bad eggs into his mouth, he did a head count. There were seventy-seven people in the mess hall, plus Angel, Harry, and Cody outside. He didn't see Jupiter anywhere, which told him that there could have been a few more missing. A hundred or so suspects were a lot to sort through.

He started to ask about what happened to Murakami when Europa gathered up her plate and stood. "I don't know if Harry or anyone else told you, but your jobs for the day are assigned by what table you sit at."

"That would've been nice to know," Danny said.

"Doc Kern can go complain to Harry about the med supplies, docs get free range," Europa explained. She jerked a thumb between her and Danny. "You and me are on kitchen duty getting lunch prepared."

"Have fun, honey," Mauna smiled sappily at him.

Europa slapped him on the back. "Just be glad you sat at my table. You could've been on toilet duty."

* * *

Harry warmly greeted the driver of the delivery truck as it parked by one of the storage huts. The older man clambered out of the driver's seat and shook his hand, pulling him into a friendly hug as he did.

"Ah, how are you, my old friend?" Harry asked.

"Still kicking," the older man laughed. He glanced around. "Where're all of your strapping young men you usually have doing all the heavy lifting?"

"They're coming. A few of them were finishing up breakfast," Harry said.

"I see them now," he pointed a withered old finger at the handful of people walking down the road toward them. He shuffled to the back of the truck and lifted the latch. With a solid shove he sent the door upwards.

Harry inhaled deeply. "I smell it."

"Oh yeah, it's the good stuff," he patted one of the sacks. "Ten sacks from here and five from Hilo. It's a real good bean."

"Everyone will be ecstatic," Harry said.

"Coffee? Do I smell coffee beans?" Angel questioned, popping around the side of the truck to peer in the back. He pumped a fist at the sight of all the bags of beans. "You are a life saver, sir. I don't know how many more days I could've gone without coffee."

As the rest of the group arrived, Harry and his friend stepped aside to let them unload the delivery of supplies. They fell into a natural rhythm of work. Two in the back of the truck passing stuff to two on the ground, two more stacking and another three taking everything inside the storage hut.

"I hear you got a few new fellas," the older man said while they watched them work.

Harry nodded. "Bolt there with the bandage on his nose is one of them. He's a good fighter. Gave Angel a run for his money last night."

The older man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What about that young fella there?"

"Shane? First one down last night, not sure what to think of him yet," Harry said.

"No, not the shaggy haired fella. The one next to him, who's he?"

"Oh. That's Koa. He and his sister moved in a couple weeks ago. He's a good hard worker and a decent fighter," Harry said as he watched the man in question help Shane stack the sacks of coffee.

"Huh."

"What? You don't normally say 'huh' without a reason," Harry looked at his old friend.

The older man took off his ballcap and ran his aged fingers through his wispy white hair. "Did that Koa fella say anything about what he did before he moved in here?"

"Worked as a tour guide at Pearl Harbor and his sister was into surfing," Harry said and then quirked one brow. "Why?"

"I don't know," the older man placed his cap back on his head. "He just looks like the spitting image of an HPD officer I knew once."

Harry froze, staring between his friend and Koa. "Honolulu Police Department?"

"That's the only HPD I know."

"Are you sure?"

"No," the older man huffed and looked up at Harry. "I'm an old fart and can't remember where I put my keys half the time. I'm just sayin', he looks familiar. Maybe he's got family in HPD. Us Hawaiians have so many cousins, you know, it could be possible to not even know you have cops in the family."

Harry massaged his forehead. He pushed his shoulders back and agreed with his friend's statement. "Yeah, you're probably right. They checked out fine and they've been good people since they've been here."

"See? You get worked up too easy," the older man patted his arm.

Harry waited until they had unloaded everything from the back of the truck and he bid his friend farewell. While the rest of the guys finished packing the supplies into the storage hut, he pulled Cody aside.

"What's up, Boss?" Cody asked.

"You know which hut is Koa and Kona's?" Harry asked.

Cody's head bobbed slowly. "Yeah. Why? What's wrong?"

"Do a check on it," Harry ordered quietly, keeping an eye on the others over Cody's shoulder.

"Having a _pakalolo_ problem again?"

He shook his head.

"Then what am I looking for?"

"Anything that says he's a cop."

Cody visibly jolted. "Koa? A cop? He seems pretty solid to me."

"I know, I know," Harry held up his hands. "I've just got a niggling feeling and would rather you check it out now and prove me wrong than for me to be wondering."

"Yeah, okay. I'm on it," Cody jogged east down the road towards the central hub of living.

Harry narrowed his eyes at Koa.

* * *

That Timothy guy had a mouth on him. Talk, talk, talk the whole time they were chopping vegetables and scrubbing pans in the kitchen back at the mess hall. How long has this place been here, does Harry pay for everything, why live here, does everyone fight, what did you do before moving in, blah, blah, blah. Europa had at one point considered knocking him upside the head with a frying pan just to shut him up.

Questions from strangers made her uncomfortable on a good day. His prying fried her nerves.

Callisto whistled at her. "Earth to Europa."

She shook her head and finished taping up her hands. It was standard practice to warm up in human form before shifting to dragon and working on more difficult maneuvers. That was, if she could ever get warmed up. Her mind was definitely on a different planet today.

"You down to fight today, or are you too ditzy?" Callisto asked.

Europa scowled at her. She was a woman around the age of thirty-two with a long face and shoulder length dirty blonde hair braided tightly on one side and left loose on the other. Despite her bony appearance, she was quick and had a nasty right hook, something that Europa had witnessed up close and personal.

"You know they say that blondes are the ditzes," Europa commented as she stepped onto the mats that formed a sparring circle in the middle of the large, squat training hut.

Callisto's thin lips twitched into a smirk. "They also say that they have more fun, if I'm not mistaken."

Europa dodged her first strike with ease, but knew better. This was only the opening dance. Callisto was a very hands on trainer, feeling that students learned better via experience. If that meant that the student had to learn how to get out of a triangle choke hold without any tips from the teacher, then so be it.

"Saw your dog tied up outside," Callisto said when they fell into a lull in their sparring.

"Yeah, and?" Europa pulled her elbows in close, balancing on the balls of her feet in anticipation of having to make a quick getaway from whatever Callisto was planning.

"Just thought that Harry would've made you get rid of him by now," Callisto said.

Europa sidestepped to avoid getting caught by Callisto's leg and the follow up strike. Starting out scrapping on the streets hadn't prepared her to come up against mixed martial artists. In her teens, it had all been about anger and stupidity, and fights with hair pulling and awkward punches had attested to that. Getting thrown into this fighting style had taken her by surprise. Ones like Callisto and Angel fought with calm and calculated moves, moving fast and hitting hard. She'd been humbled quickly.

A reverse scissor kick and a heel hook had her staring at the beams holding up the ceiling.

"You are too out of it today," Callisto muttered and disentangled herself.

"I don't care if Samson growls at Harry. That's why I got him," Europa said, still thinking about the earlier comment. She bounced back to her feet.

Callisto pursed her lips. "You are a dragon. Why get a mutt to protect you when you are far more intimidating?"

Europa cupped her hands over her face in an attempt to focus her thoughts. "Samson has better Spidey senses than I do."

"And you have a bigger bite than he does. Now, are you ready to train or do you just want to go attack a sandbag that most likely won't take you to the floor?" Callisto asked, dropping the topic.

Europa glanced over to where Ganymede and Jupiter were sparring. The other pair had paused to talk to Cody who had walked in. Cody only spoke to Jupiter and then took off as suddenly as he had arrived.

"You're bailing on us?" Europa called out.

"Easy, kid, Harry just has some business he wants to go over with me," Jupiter said. He kissed Ganymede and then disappeared after Cody without any further explanation.

Ganymede set her hands on her hips as she stalked over to their sparring circle. "That's what you get when you're popular, baby girl. It's not all fun and games."

Ganymede was a few years younger than Callisto, but older than Europa. While Callisto was bony, Ganymede was made up of soft edges and smooth almond colored skin. Another case of deceiving looks. Europa had grappled with her and she might as well have been tackling a brick wall.

"Yeah, well, I'm not a fighter to be popular," she murmured.

"Don't worry, we can tell," Ganymede laughed. "You know what always woke me up when I couldn't get into a warm up?"

Europa was almost afraid to ask. "What?"

"Two on one," Ganymede launched a fist at her.

Cursing unintelligibly, Europa backpedaled as both fighters attacked. There was zero room for thoughts of Harry or Samson or Timothy now as she had to pour everything into not getting clobbered by the two moons.

* * *

"Hey, Koa, got a minute?"

Chin looked up from the mulch he was raking. His shirt clung to his back and sweat dripped off his face. At barely ten in the morning, the humidity and heat were already awful. Of course, being a native of the islands and used to it, he didn't complain as much as Shane and Bolt did. He was sure Kono was off dealing with the same kind of complaints in her group.

"Sure, brah," he set his rake against one of the wheelbarrows and climbed up the small hill to where Cody was standing. "How's it?"

Cody tightly shrugged a shoulder. "Boss wants to see you."

Chin raised his brows, maintaining his cool demeanor on the outside and rapidly sorting through reasons why Harry would want to see him. As far as he could tell, no red flags had gone up on any of their false backgrounds and unless someone had broken cover, there should be no reason for suspicion. Keeping all of that on the inside, though, he followed Cody along one of the trails to the huts deeper in the jungle.

"You know why he wants to see me?" he asked casually.

"Think he said something about fighting," Cody said.

Chin relaxed somewhat. Harry may have been talking to all of the newcomers involved in the hazing last night. This would give him a good chance to gauge if Harry knew anything about or was involved in the death of Murakami. If he was lucky, and careful, he might find evidence linking either Harry or someone to the previous doctor's murder.

The trail forked and they took the left path. He observed their surroundings, taking note of where they were and the easiest ways to run to safety. Being a cop for years had created useful habits. However, he noticed that they seemed to be going the wrong way if they were heading toward the deeper jungle huts.

He frowned. "I've never been to Harry's hut. He's kind of away from everything, isn't he?"

"Harry's hut is that way," Cody pointed right.

That's what he had thought. The other huts were to the east of them in the jungle, not where they were heading. An uneasy feeling came over him. That feeling doubled as they approached what had to be an abandoned military bunker buried into the side of the hill that rose in front of them.

"Very clandestine," he said.

"Harry's kind of a shock and awe guy," Cody grunted and pulled the heavy metal door open. "Come on."

Apprehensively, because now all his cop senses were going off, he followed him into the bunker. To his surprise, lights lit up the tunnel and the various offshoot rooms. The cool and slightly damp air sent a shiver down his back, and not just because he was sweaty and it chilled him. He remembered coming through this tunnel last night. One of the offshoots must have led into the Pit.

"This is more like Harry's office," Cody said. He stopped outside one door, tapped his knuckles on it, and pressed it open.

Chin walked inside, doing an immediate sweep with his eyes. It was a simple room with a tall bookcase and two chairs in front of a desk. A mass produced painting of a Hawaiian beach hung on one wall. A single lamp on the desk illuminated the paperwork that Harry was scribbling on.

"Thanks, Cody. Go ahead and take a seat, Koa," Harry gestured to the open seats.

Cody shut the door and left Chin alone inside the room with Harry. He sat down and stared quizzically at the man. Harry finished what he was writing and straightened in his chair, rolling his neck and shoulders.

"Figuring out expenses for a community is not fun," Harry said.

Chin shook his head. Harry's voice may have been warm and friendly, but his face was lined with worry and his shoulders were taut. "That's why I've always been an employee, not an employer."

"Smart man," Harry folded his hands on the desk. "You did pretty good last night. Most mixed bloods wouldn't even bother trying to take on a Drake."

Maybe this was just about the hazing. He grinned. "I figured go big or go home."

"Where'd you learn to fight?" Harry asked.

"Took kickboxing in high school and experimented with it from there," he answered somewhat truthfully. He had learned in high school and experimented with it while becoming a police officer.

Harry nodded and leaned back. "And you were working as a guide for Pearl Harbor? Why not go professional?"

He was probing, giving credence to the uneasy feeling. Chin considered his next words carefully. "Where's the fun in that?"

Harry chuckled. "I like you, Koa. Which is why I had a hard time believing my friend this morning."

Chin pulled off a confused face as his sat phone and notebook were set on top of the desk despite the fact that his heart skipped a beat. "Why? People spreading rumors about me?"

"I had hoped that's all it was," Harry stood up so he could stare down at him. "Until I had Cody search your hut this morning and he found these behind a loose board next to your bed."

Damn it. Keep calm and bluff it off. He held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, I don't know what Cody found, but those aren't mine. No phones allowed in here, remember?"

"I couldn't believe it either, because you're such a hard worker and a good fighter," Harry said. He flipped through the filled out pages in the notebook. "But this is cop shorthand, and my friend could have sworn that he recognized you as an HPD officer."

"A cop? Are you for real?" Chin stood up as well in an act to seem surprised but to actually give him a height advantage. While weapons weren't involved right now, he'd rather not be sitting if they came into play. "You've got to be kidding. Harry, look man, I don't know what you're implying–"

"What I'm implying? I'll be very clear. I'm implying that you're an undercover cop trying to infiltrate my community," Harry deadpanned. "All of that talk of wanting to move in here for a change of pace and a chance at living closer to nature with likeminded people that you spouted off to me when I interviewed you a few weeks ago? Bullshit."

Chin tossed his hands in the air and paced behind the chairs. "This is rid–"

"I have done my homework on you!" Harry pointed a finger at him. "I am not a technologically impaired hippie as you might have first assumed, Officer Kelly."

Butterflies danced in Chin's stomach. Not good. His cover had been blown. But, maybe not fully. He had called him an officer, not a lieutenant. His information must have been old, from when he was with HPD and not Five-0.

"I read about the whole money scandal and your resignation from the force," Harry said, confirming his suspicions. A gun appeared in his hand. It very well might have been the same kind that was used to put a bullet through Murakami's skull. Most likely was the very same one. "I have a hard time believing you're working alone and have to believe that you must be back in law enforcement again."

He hadn't connected him with Five-0. Yet. If Harry was going down this path, though, it may not take long for the connections to be made and then Kono, Danny, and Mauna were screwed, too.

A new plan started to formulate in his head while he eyed the gun. He'd made the stupid mistake of putting the chairs between him and Harry, and now there was too much distance between them. It would be difficult to make a grab for it.

"Rumors," Chin said and abandoned the happy carefree character of Koa. Time for a different tactic. "You know what they say about rumors, especially where money's concerned. There're rumors about this place. I figured that with the fights you have, there's got to be a flow of money coming through here."

"And you thought you were going to get your hands on it?" Harry asked. He snorted. "I don't think so. You see, if you just wanted money, you'd do what Murakami did and try to blackmail me. Snap a few photos, threaten to go to the authorities or the press. No. You're investigating. Like a cop."

That explained Murakami. He weighed his options. Harry was convinced he was undercover. He could run, hopefully without getting shot, and warn his cousin and the others. They could probably break up the fighting ring, but as soon as he ran he was sure that Harry would vanish and they wouldn't be able to convict him of murder. And there was something else with this place. The skittish residents. He still wanted to know why they were so skittish.

Chin wouldn't run. Couldn't run. Not unless he was dragging Harry off the property with him while he ran.

"Move," Harry commanded.

Chin sidled towards the door, biding his time for now. Harry didn't seem like a fighter. A killer, yes, apparently, but not a fighter. He would get sloppy and allow Chin to make a move to get a hold of the gun eventually.

He didn't count on Cody on the other side of the door, also with a gun. A rifle that was already cocked in preparation of a struggle. Two armed men would make it harder, but not impossible. He'd have to wait for the right moment. He was fast, but not as fast as a bullet exiting a gun. Cody motioned for Chin to head down the tunnel, opposite of the direction they came in.

Channeling a bit of Danny, effectively enacting what they had affectionately called Plan D, he started talking. "You know, killing me isn't going to solve your problem."

"You _are_ my problem at the moment," Harry grumbled.

"Think about it, brah. If I am a cop, do you really think I'd be out here without anyone knowing? The second my body shows up somewhere, they're going to know exactly who to pin it on," Chin said. "And if I'm not a cop, you just executed a good worker and fighter because of a rumor."

Harry chuckled. "You think too highly of yourself. I have good workers. I can spare one. And fighters? Well, my good fighter, my champion, wouldn't fight a cop unfortunately."

Daylight entered the tunnel and up ahead Chin could see the Pit. He glanced over his shoulder, but Cody and Harry were still too far away for him to go for the guns. There was another entrance to the giant hole in the ground he could run for if it wasn't blocked off. He squinted at the bright light filtering through the tree canopy. Come to think of it, if he had to, he could climb up the low side of the Pit.

'Wouldn't fight a cop.' He pivoted on his heel to face the two men standing in the tunnel, thinking about Harry's statement about his champion. He had a bad feeling that a different rumor had been spread about him. One created by Harry.

The door shut and he heard the thunk of a lock sliding into place.

Chin turned so the door was at his back. The way the shadows stretched over the Pit obscured the other side from sight, but he knew that someone was in here with him. Harry's top fighter, or one of them, at least. Hopefully only one.

Sweat trickled down his face and back. This wasn't a normal execution. This was Daniel getting thrown into the lions' den.

His heart beat harder against his ribcage as someone peeled away from the shadows at last. By nature, Chin was an optimistic man. He was the calm that kept the storms between Steve and Danny from boiling over, and the calm that kept his cousin from rushing headfirst into situations. It took a lot to rile him up or to make his heart pound as violently as it was.

"What did Harry tell you?" he asked as every muscle tightened in preparation to get out of the way.

The dragon didn't answer. Monstrous white teeth and crowded fangs gleamed in his maw. He charged, forcing Chin to sprint away toward the low end on the other side. Getting out of the Pit was a priority. He may have been an optimistic man, but he knew he didn't have a chance in hell against this beast.

He zigged at the last second, feeling the wind off of claws missing him. The rock wall on the low side of the Pit didn't have many handholds that he could see. It had been filed down with purposeful intent. Unwilling fighters couldn't use it to escape.

Claws caught him in the side and suddenly he was airborne.

Dust plumed up as he hit the ground. Chin blinked to clear the stars from his vision and sucked in a breath. He coughed, wincing at freshly cracked ribs. The side of his face stung from hitting the ground and he could feel blood running from his nose.

"Get up."

He paused. That voice. He looked up at the approaching dragon. "Jupiter?"

"You better believe it," the dragon rumbled.

Chin pushed himself to his knees and examined the dragon intently. Muddy gene dragons, that's what they called them, prominently displayed more than two characteristics of various types. The scales that perfectly reflected the musculature underneath were a variety of shapes and sizes, all of them thick and dense. It was uncommon to see a dragon of any type outside of the occasional Wyvern with that kind of scaling. His six and a half-foot height, the four horns on either side of his head, the barbels on his chin and mouth corners, and the murderous spur like dewclaws on his hind feet spoke to all sorts of types in his heritage.

The chips in the scales, the busted big left horn, the missing right mouth corner barbels, and the scar tugging his lip up towards his left eye spoke to something different. Spoke to a life of fighting and surviving.

"Get up," Jupiter ordered lowly.

Chin wrapped an arm around his chest and he struggled to stand. Without any humor he noted that he had no height advantage this time once he was on his feet again.

"Jupiter, whatever Harry told you, it's not true," he said. "He lied–"

Chin was sent sprawling to the ground by a backhand from the fighter. His already abused ribs protested with a scream. Jupiter had hit him in the shoulder instead of the head and he had an idea that he wanted him conscious, that he wanted him to feel the pain.

"Get up."

A shadow fell over him. He glared at the head far above his and then clenched his eyes shut, levering himself up on his elbow. He got as far as his knees and had to stop for breath.

"Get up."

Chin craned his head back to look at the dragon. His warm oranges, reds, and browns swirled and shimmered in his vision.

"Why?" he asked. "What did I do?"

Prominent upper fangs crowded by smaller ones growing too close to them flashed as the head lowered to his level. Thick scales even lined his nasal ridge, brows, and under his eyes, framing him with an intimidating visage.

"What did you do?" Jupiter repeated.

"Yeah," he held the golden eyes in a steady glare. "I have a right to know why I'm getting the crap beat out of me."

"As far as I'm concerned, every right you ever had was left at the entrance of the Pit," Jupiter said. "Now, get up."

"What did Harry tell you?" he questioned.

"Enough."

He narrowed his eyes. "You ever think that Harry might be using you?"

Jupiter's hot breath washed over him as he loomed even closer. "Just like you used those women?"

Chin blinked, and his heart stuttered. He knew exactly what kind of lie the fighter had been told to get him properly motivated. "Jupiter, that's not what happened–"

The heavily armored snout smacked his jaw, sending him reeling again. He spit. Metallic blood flooded his mouth. At the edge of his vision squared off claws dug into the sandy floor of the Pit as Jupiter leaned down even closer to him.

"Get up."

Chin shook his head minutely. "No."

"No?" Jupiter barked.

Baring bloody teeth, he tipped his head back and said, "Harry lied to you. I didn't do anything. I'm not that kind of man."

"Alright, then," Jupiter lifted his head up and tilted his chin. Chin got one foot under him, ready to move. "You either fight me like a man, or you die like a coward."

Chin was many things. A cousin, a friend, a widower, a cop, a mechanic, a fisherman, a surfer, a mixed blood, an optimist. But there was one thing he definitely wasn't. A coward.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Oops. Did I mention this is bigger than a two parter? Ahahaha...*gets hit by a brick***

 **Check out the art page for a watercolor bust of the reigning champion, Jupiter. Yeah, Idris Elba is definitely his voice.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", the conclusion to this arc. Harry doesn't take too kindly to undercover cops and Steve races to save his team. Whump and action ensue.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, and faving!**


	57. Fact 52 Part III

**This is a big chapter. You've been warned.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #52: It's always fight, flight, or freeze, no matter the species.**

 **Season: Late Season 3**

 **Part III**

"Go get his sister, or whoever she really is," Harry ordered as he and Cody walked away from the heavy door sealing off the Pit from the rest of the bunker.

Cody glanced over his shoulder with a concerned look. "You want her in there, too?"

"No," Harry swerved into his office first, tucking the gun on top of the tall bookcase where it was out of sight. "Cuff her and toss her into the holding room until I get this figured out."

"Real classy way to handle this, Boss. Throw one to the Rancor and put the other in a dungeon," Cody grumbled under his breath.

Harry glared at him. "Don't get cocky. I wouldn't be so sure of the safety of your position here."

Cody nodded. "Sorry. I'll go get the cuffs."

"And try not to make a scene. The last thing I need is for some of these hayseeds to up and scatter," Harry warned.

* * *

Danny despised the jungle. It had started as a dislike when Steve had broken his arm, it had then turned into a strong dislike after Grace's camping trip had been hijacked a few months ago and he had had to go trekking through the jungle to save his partner and Lucy, and now as he walked the jungle path toward the med hut he decided that he was never going to set foot in the jungle again. It was hot, it was sticky, and there were bugs everywhere.

Plus, he couldn't find his two teammates. No one knew where Chin had disappeared to and when he had finally gotten an answer as to where Kono should have been, she wasn't there.

"No, no, this was a great idea, Steven. An absolutely, fan-freaking-tastic idea, sending us undercover with scant clues and no backup," Danny's one hand danced around with his mutterings. He grimaced as a broad leafed plant smacked his bare shins and dripped water down his legs. "This is not proper procedure, you Neanderthal animal, I hope you realize that and I hope you realize that I was right about the need to gather more information before we plunged headfirst into this mess."

Danny snapped his mouth shut as Cody merged onto the trail ahead of him from another thinner dirt path that led into the deeper jungle. He was heading the opposite direction. He was also sporting a split lip and fresh bruising that he hadn't had this morning.

"Cody, right?" Danny asked conversationally while analyzing the evidence of a fight on his face.

"Yeah. What's up, Timothy? You looking for your wife?" Cody massaged the bridge of his nose, looking too tired for it to be only a quarter to eleven in the morning.

"Figured she was in the med hut," Danny nodded. His hands flicked out to gesture to their surroundings. "I was looking for either Koa or Kona, too. They said they'd give me a tour of the place, because I feel like I'm a new ant in the hill and have no idea where I'm going."

Cody stiffened. He tilted his head to the side and leveled him with a quizzical stare. "Didn't see them in the mulch yard or the garden?"

"Already checked both places," Danny said. The way Cody was looking at him gave him a distinctly uncomfortable feeling.

"Yeah, well, it's a big property. They could be anywhere," Cody shrugged. "If I run into them I'll pass it along that you're looking for them."

"Thanks."

Danny pivoted on his heel to watch him continue to walk the trail back toward the central hub of living. Everything about that brief interaction felt wrong. As soon as he had mentioned his teammates' undercover identities, Cody's body language had shifted from tired to wary and tense. All of his years of experience told him that Cody knew something.

He started walking again, but paused where the trail Cody had come off of met with the trail to the med hut. Where did it lead to? Away from the huts for sure. He shot a look over his shoulder to see if Cody had doubled back before he set off on the thinner trail.

The undergrowth became thicker and the sounds of human life faded away to be replaced by that of insect life.

"The one time I need George of the Jungle and he's not here," he said to himself.

The trail snaked through the jungle, going around old trees and boulders, over logs and a stream. He wasn't a nature guy. Maybe he should have paid attention to Steve's ridiculous lessons during the Aloha Girls' camping trip. He was, however, a cop, and his instincts told him he was heading inland. They also told him that from the lack of people, he probably shouldn't have been out here. It must have been off limits or something.

Danny stopped when the ground started to slope up. He peered around a tree at the hill. More specifically, at the military bunker door buried into the side of the hill. He frowned. That uncomfortable feeling jumped up a couple notches and his hackles raised as he heard a muffled yell. Combine the yell with Chin and Kono's disappearance, Cody's suspicious behavior, and this secretive bunker, it was an easy conclusion to jump to as to where his teammates were.

"What'd you two get yourselves into, huh?" he questioned.

"Damn it."

Danny whipped around. Cody stood behind him.

"Harry was right. There are more than just two of you."

* * *

Europa let Samson tug her along toward the med hut. Nearly an hour of sparring had taken its toll. Ganymede and Callisto didn't comprehend 'go easy' or 'lazy day'. It was all or nothing with those women. Usually, she could stick it out for several hours before having to call it a day, but she just wasn't in it today and that was not an ideal situation to be in when Callisto was feeling spritely.

"Slow down, dude," she pleaded half-heartedly to her dog.

He obediently slowed his pace.

One hit to a very recently healed rib had done her in. The muscles around the injured bone seized and she couldn't physically keep up with the two moons. Ganymede suggested she go see the doc and kick back the rest of the day. She was supposed to help initiate the new chicks tonight, but that may have been a no-go now.

Samson resumed his previous pace and yanked her along again.

Europa trudged up the steps of the med hut with gritted teeth and rapped her knuckles on the door. Samson stared at the crack between the door and its frame with his ears perked up.

"Hey, Doc, you in there?" she called out. Docs were supposed to stay around the med hut, especially when there was training going on, but Harry had done a shoddy job of filling in the two newcomers on the finer details of life in the community.

Samson scratched at the wood with a paw.

"Harry, you suck," she grunted. She'd just grab a couple of cold packs and some Fire Root pills. Doctoring herself was nothing new. Murakami hadn't exactly been a caring and concerned doctor.

She pulled the door open and blinked. It looked like a hurricane had gone through it. Boxes were toppled over, the cot had been kicked askew, bandages littered the ground like leaves.

"Jeez, Doc, no need to throw a tantrum 'cause Harry doesn't know how to stock med supplies," she whispered.

Samson busily got to sniffing around the single room hut while Europa went to the corner where the box of cold packs was. Or at least used to be. She sighed and looked around the room. Man, nothing was probably where it had been.

"Great," she toed a cardboard box out of the way and saw one cold pack. It must have gotten cracked because it was already cold when she picked it up. "One will have to do."

She tugged on Samson's leash as she turned back toward the door and froze. Her eyes widened at the claw marks on the wall and door itself. With a fluttering gut, she gave the room a second look.

"Crap, Doc, what happened?"

Samson's leash zipped through her hand. She cursed at the rope burn on her palm as he shot out the door. Leaving the cold pack behind, she darted after him and gave chase up the trail.

* * *

It was dim. A section of grating in the ceiling above their heads provided the only light. The ground was made of packed dirt, the walls of crumbling cement blocks, but the door was a thick metal one. It appeared to be better maintained than the rest of the dungeon like room.

Danny fought with his trembling. A dark, metal container with chains and a muzzle flashed to the fore. A lonely, broken voice drifting from the vents. Drugs sluggishly making their way through his system. Unwanted hands touching his face. The rocking of the ship on the waves. Marilyn's falsely warm voice.

Kono pressed closer to him. "Danny, it's okay, brah. Take a deep breath. It's okay."

He swallowed. "Is it, though? We're trapped in an underground bunker and unless this is another hellish hazing, our cover is blown. And these cuffs are biting into my wrists. And it's hot down here. Are you hot?"

Kono peeled away from his side so she was on her knees in front of him. She held his gaze steadily, a drying stream of blood from a cut on her forehead adding to the intensity of her look. "The fact that we're underground is good."

Danny barked out a laugh. "Good, huh? How, exactly, is it good? Good by the fact that they won't have to worry about burying us because we're already in the ground?"

"No. It means we're not going to overheat," Kono said. "Mauna and Chin are going to realize we're missing and will get a hold of Steve."

"You are just like your cousin, you know that?" Danny said with the hint of a smirk. "Eternally optimistic in the face of oppressing reality."

Kono cracked a grin.

Danny sighed. "I, ah, hate to be the bearer of bad news or anything, but I couldn't find–"

The door swung open. They both jumped and struggled to their feet as someone else was tossed in. She landed ungracefully on her stomach and face, hissing a blue streak of curses. The door shut and latched before any of them could move.

"Mauna?" Kono crouched by her.

Mauna sat up and rolled her neck. Several vertebrae popped back into place with sickening cracks. "Bastard jumped me in the med hut."

"Was it Cody?" Danny asked.

"Blond with a stubby ponytail?"

"Yeah," Kono growled.

"That was the guy," Mauna said and got to her feet. She started to make a slow circuit around the room, eyes flicking from floor to ceiling.

Kono's face pinched in irritation. "So much for you letting Steve know."

"I'm going with this isn't another hazing," Mauna said.

Danny lifted his shoulders in an attempt to gesture since his hands were firmly trapped behind his back. "No, I would say it's not another hazing. Somehow our cover was blown. You wouldn't have happened to have a slip of the tongue, like you were worried about, right?"

Mauna glared at him from across the room. "No. I haven't talked to anyone since breakfast. What about you, blabbermouth?"

Kono stepped in their line of sight. "Okay, that's enough. Right now, it doesn't matter how they found out, only that they did. We need to concentrate on getting out of here and then we can point fingers."

Danny paced away to the other wall. "If I wasn't cuffed behind my back I may be able to bite through the chain."

"Can't you shift and break the cuffs?" Kono asked.

"Why me? Why can't you shift and break your cuffs?" Danny shot back.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead and shift," Mauna commented as she stood under the metal grating skylight with her head tipped up and her eyes squinting against the diffuse sunlight. "You're cops. You know what titanium alloy cuffs are."

Kono furrowed her brows while Danny let out a curse that surprised her. "Three years and I'm still the rookie here. What're titanium alloy cuffs?"

"It's a special type of cuff they use on dragons to discourage shifting from human to dragon. Places like the Ranch use them," Danny explained sourly. He shivered and flexed his hands behind him. "Are you sure that's what these are?"

Mauna nodded. "I got a good look at one before Cody snapped it on me."

"What'll happen if you shift with them on?" Kono asked.

"They're stronger than standard issue police cuffs and won't snap off when you shift and leave you with just bruises. It'll crush every bone in your wrists," Mauna said.

Kono winced at the thought. "Okay. If we can't get out of the cuffs, what's the–"

The door creaked open once again. Harry stood to the side with a handgun while Cody dragged in another body. They left as quickly as they had appeared, but no one cared. All they had eyes for was the body.

"Chin!" Kono flung herself to her knees by her cousin's side.

"Shit," Mauna dropped to her knees as did Danny.

"Chin, oh my god, Chin," Danny's heart twisted.

Blood covered his face and oozed from claw marks on his chest, staining his once colorful Hawaiian shirt. Dark spots on his jeans attested to more wounds marring his legs. Bile rose in Danny's throat, but he swallowed it down.

Mauna leaned over with her ear close to his nose and mouth. "He's still breathing. Shallowly. Damn it."

She scooted away from them and flopped onto her back.

"What're you doing, huh? Yoga?" Danny asked.

"Yeah, yoga," Mauna agreed through gritted teeth. She arched her back and pushed her shoulders down as low as they could go without dislocating. Bit by bit she worked her cuffed wrists over her butt and up the back of her thighs. She rocked forward and pulled her legs through her arms. "It comes in handy from time to time."

Kono bumped her knees against Chin's right arm and shoulder. "Chin, cuz, answer me. Come on, brah, don't check out on me."

"…it's okay…Water Woman…."

Kono laughed and wiped the tears on her cheeks away with her shoulders. "Cuz, don't scare me like that. What happened to you?"

Mauna carefully unbuttoned his shirt and exposed his chest. She whistled lowly at the smears of red and pops of purple while Kono avoided looking at it entirely, only looking at his face.

"Harry knows," Chin wheezed.

"Yeah, we got that, buddy," Danny said. "But what happened to you, huh?"

Chin closed his eyes and licked his lips. He breathed short, quick breaths through his mouth, brows knitting together in pain at Mauna's poking.

"I'd say he got the crap beat out of him by a dragon," Mauna murmured.

"That about…sums it up…." Chin gasped.

Kono looked across at Mauna. "How bad is he?"

"Without the hospital's machinery, I don't know," she answered. She set her fingers on the side of his face and examined one eye then the other. "Pupils are equal, but that doesn't mean no concussion."

Mauna crawled around on her haunches, running her hands over Chin from top to bottom. Kono shared his pained expression each time the doctor found an injury and Danny sympathized, knowing how uncomfortable it was to have someone purposely trying to find what hurt.

"Holy–" Mauna cut off mid exclamation as Chin jerked when she touched his right shin. She gently worked his pantleg up to get a better look.

"What?" Kono and Danny both asked.

Mauna spread her fingers wide and measured the width of the wound with her hand. "This is a bite mark."

"From what? The shark from _Jaws_?" Danny leaned over to look at it. He looked back at Chin's face. "Did you know the schmuck that used you as a punching bag?"

"…was Jupiter…."

"Big tall, dark, and British from the showers?" Danny asked.

"He's Harry's…champion…."

"Must be his thug, too," Danny said.

"He better pray that I don't get to him first when we get out of here," Kono snarled, tugging at her arms still trapped behind her back.

Chin shook his head slowly. "Got told…a lie…thought I was…a pervert…."

Danny's fingers curled into fists and he strained against the cuffs. "I'm assuming he probably wouldn't have laid into you as hard if he had been told you were a cop, huh? So Harry, classy guy that he is, lies to him to get him all riled up, right?"

Chin only minutely nodded.

"We need to get out of here," Mauna said. The other two looked at her. "He has several fractured ribs, dislocated and out of place bones including his shoulder, maybe a hair fracture on his tibia from this bite, a possible concussion, and several open wounds. Plus, with all that bruising on his abdomen, he could have a slow internal bleed."

Kono bit her lower lip and blinked away the unbidden tears welling in her eyes again. She sniffed as Chin settled his hand on her thigh.

"…s'okay, cuz…not going to…check out…yet…." He weakly smiled at her.

A smattering of dirt rained through the grating in the ceiling.

Mauna bolted to her feet as did Danny. They looked up at the tangle of vines growing around the edges of the metal grate with confused stares. A big shiny black nose followed by a big black head with floppy ears pushed through the foliage.

"I love dogs," Danny said under his breath, and then rose his voice. "Samson, hey, pooch, what're you doing here?"

Samson whined, sniffing the grate and hesitantly putting a paw on the metal bars.

"….I swear, you dumb dog, if you keep doing this, I'm going to get a zap collar for you."

Samson looked over his shoulder and barked.

"That's Europa," Danny said. "Europa!"

He didn't shout in fear of their jailers hearing them, but he spoke loud enough that he hoped she would hear him. And hear him she did. Her face emerged from the large leaves as she crouched to investigate. Her brows almost comically met her hairline.

"Doc? Is that you and your hubs?" she asked with a tone that indicated she didn't quite believe what she was seeing.

"Yeah, it's us," Mauna said.

"What the hell are you doing in Harry's cellar?"

"You mean dungeon? I don't know, ask him," Danny snapped. "We need help. We've got an injured man down here."

Europa tilted her head, trying to see further into the underground room. "Harry uses this place to hold troublemakers 'til they cool off. What'd you do?"

"We didn't do anything. Cody grabbed us, cuffed us, and threw us in here," Danny said and Mauna held up her wrists, rattling the short chain between them.

Europa stopped moving completely. Her voice flattened. "Those are dragon cuffs. The hell is he still doing with those?"

Danny glanced over his shoulder as Chin started coughing, sucking in air and groaning at the same time. It sounded agonizing. Mauna ducked over to the cousins and helped Kono get him more upright. He looked back up at the scowling Europa.

"Is that Koa and Kona down there, too?"

"Europa, listen," Danny would have put his hands together in a pleading gesture if they weren't behind his back. He was going to take a risk. "Listen, we're cops. We're undercover."

"Pfft. Yeah, and I'm FBI," she rolled her eyes with a disgusted look. "Man, I don't know what you dudes did, but it must be bad if Harry's got you in cuffs in the cellar."

"You have to listen to me. We are cops. We're with the Five-0 Taskforce based out of Honolulu. We were investigating this place because we got a tip from a concerned citizen that this community was involved in shady business," Danny said, trying to ignore the way his friend was struggling for breath behind him.

"And the only business you found was a bunch of dudes knocking each other's teeth out. Congratulations."

He was going to go nuts with his hands unavailable to use. He wanted to run them through his hair, over his face, and lash out vividly. "We know what happened to Murakami."

"He disappeared. Up and left," Europa said, but even she sounded uncertain.

"No. Someone put a bullet through his head and dumped his body in the ocean where it washed up on Oahu a few days ago," he said.

"What?" Europa cupped her face in her hands and dragged them back over her braids. "You're not kidding, are you?"

Finally. He shook his head. "Harry found out about us and had Jupiter rough Koa up this morning."

"Jupiter? He wouldn't rough up a cop," Europa said. She rubbed a hand across her brow. "Unless…crap. That's where he went this morning. He wasn't discussing business with Harry, he was doing his dirty work 'cause the guy's too much of a piss ant to do it himself."

"Europa, I need you to do something for us. I need you to get a message to our teammate outside of the community," he said.

She stared at him like he had sprouted two heads. "Nah uh. I ain't doing anything for you. You know how many times people have tried to take down Harry and he just slips away into the night? If he finds out that I helped you and he escapes, I'm screwed. My family is screwed."

"Babe, I promise you, if you get a message to my partner on the outside, we will take Harry down. I don't know what he's done to you or is holding over your head, but he's going to go away for a very long time," he said. He exhaled heavily. "Please."

Europa hugged Samson close to her, tucking her face into his neck briefly before she looked back down at him. "Dude, I hope you're telling the truth. Where's your buddy?"

* * *

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and rested his elbows on his desk. He was a grown man that could admit when he had made a mistake. It had been a mistake to dump Murakami's body off his boat when burning it on the property would have kept the authorities from finding it. At the same time, there was the chance that one of the residents would have found it.

Then again, that option may have been better than finding four undercover cops in his community. Four. After unearthing Lieutenant, yes, he had found out that he was now a lieutenant, Kelly's information, it had only taken the rest of the hour to figure out that Kona was really Officer Kalakaua, that Timothy was Detective Williams, but the doctor was still a mystery to him. None of his research had turned up anything on a tall red headed woman working with the famed taskforce.

It did make him wonder where their leader was, though. Cody and Angel had said that a cop had been involved in the accident the Kerns, apparently the _real_ Kerns, had been in and Harry wondered if said cop had been Lieutenant Commander McGarrett. It would explain why he hadn't shown his face around here. He'd already been made.

There was a knock at his door.

"Come in," he called, picking his head up as Cody walked in.

"What's the plan, Boss?" Cody asked. He took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk and crossed his arms over his chest.

Harry sighed. "They've seen our faces, they know our operation."

"Four cops showing up in the water could bring a lot of heat down on our heads," Cody warned mildly.

"That's why, this time, we're not going to dump them in the water," Harry said and stood up. Shaking his head, he retrieved his gun off the top of the bookcase, finger hovering over the trigger for a moment before he tucked it in the back of his pants and pulled his shirt over it. "But I don't appreciate them thinking that they can gain our trust only to try to betray us later."

Cody's leg bounced nervously, his eyes switching from the concealed weapon to Harry's face. "I'm guessing that you're not going to just shoot them like you did with Murakami."

"You know how I built this place, Cody?" Harry asked.

Cody shook his head.

"With hard work. Lots of hard work," Harry stared intently at him. "Too much to let those cops off with an easy death. Go get Angel and move them to the Pit."

"Angel's not going to like this. He likes Koa and Kona, and you know how he feels about getting involved in this side of the business."

"He'll do whatever I ask him to do. Now go."

Cody obediently rose and followed Harry out of the door into the cool, slightly damp tunnel. "Where're you going, Boss?"

"To speak with Jupiter."

* * *

Waiting was never one of Steve's strong suits. It probably never would be. He had to excise all his energy somehow, because being cooped up in a hotel room was about to cause his screws to come loose. Exercise was his only outlet and on this case, he'd had little until that morning.

Steve draped the towel over his shoulders and sat on the edge of the bed.

His run had done the trick. Would he have rather gone swimming? Yes. But he could carry the sat phone with him while running just in case his team needed to contact him. No one had called while he was in the shower, and he supposed that was a good thing. No news didn't mean bad news. Chin's normal check in wasn't until late in the evening, anyway.

He glanced at his cellphone. There were close to fifty emails he had yet to check and no phone calls or texts. Having nothing better to do at the moment, he sorted through the emails and organized them.

"Junk, junk, Governor, junk, Danny, Max, junk, junk, Governor, insurance, junk, insurance, junk, junk, junk," he muttered. He flagged the address of the most recent six junk emails to where it would automatically sort into his junk folder. "Need Chin to see if he can unsubscribe me from whatever silkymaneater282 at gmail is."

The mind numbing task of filtering through emails ended abruptly when a rapid knocking gave him a start and he juggled his phone for a moment before tossing it on the bed. He grabbed his sidearm off the nightstand when the pounding resumed barely two seconds later.

He looked through the peephole and frowned. Keeping the chain latched, he flipped the deadbolt and cracked the door open, hiding his gun off to the side.

"Can I help you?" he asked, looking the young woman up and down. She had sweat pouring off her face, matting her loose brown and blonde balayaged hair, and making her tank top nearly see through.

"You Steve?" she questioned between pants for breath.

He didn't answer, instead asking, "Who are you?"

She braced a hand on the wall and used the other to comb her tangled hair back. "Europa. I've got an SOS from your partner, Danny."

Steve shut the door and slid the chain out of the way, and then swung it open wide. "Danny?"

"He told me to tell you that you're a Neanderthal animal for sending them undercover," she said. "And that you dudes need a pineapple pizza or something."

A cold tingle went down his back. Pineapple pizza had become their emergency phrase to alert the others whenever something was wrong. Danny had decided on it and they had laughed about it, but it had stuck. To have a stranger delivering a pineapple pizza to him meant that his team was in trouble and needed backup right now. It must have been bad if no one could get to the sat phone to call him personally.

"Where are they?" he questioned. He flung the towel into the bathroom and grabbed his shoes.

Europa jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "At the community. Harry has them in a cellar right now. One of your dudes is bad off."

Steve furrowed his brows at her while he slid his other shoe on. His heart thudded wildly against his ribs. If Danny had sent her with a message, he must have been okay. Something must have happened to Chin or Kono.

He sprung to his feet and grabbed his backpack from the tiny closet. It had ammo, two backup weapons, a couple of grenades, rope, a med kit, and another sat phone. "Okay, stay here and–"

"Fat chance," Europa stood in the doorway, all five feet and five inches of her blocking his exit. "You're going to follow me. You'll never find the cellar or Harry unless you know the property like I do."

"Fine. We don't have time, come on," he jogged into the hallway with her trailing behind him. "How'd you get here?"

"I ran."

He looked over his shoulder at her. "You _ran_?"

"They would've seen me jack a car and would've gotten suspicious," she said.

He mentally filed through his options. He hadn't bothered getting a rental car because he'd seen no need for one. The others had been picked up at drop off points by Harry's men. He didn't think he had the time to try to get the Molokai police rounded up for a rescue. Flashing his badge would get him a car. It wasn't ideal, but it would work.

"I'm going to get us a car," he said as they took the stairs by twos. "I know where the community is, but you're going to have to–"

"Dude, going up there by car is a good way to get spotted and will take too long," Europa interrupted. "You're going to have to ride dragon back if you want to get up there incognito."

Steve eyed her, wondering exactly how big of a dragon she could shift into if she was offering to carry him. Not that he needed carried. "I can run."

* * *

The Pit was just as terrifying during the day as it was at night. Even more so since he was cuffed this time and was guarding an injured teammate. A perturbed and fully shifted Angel had herded them into the arena and left immediately with an anxious glance cast up at Harry on the rim of the Pit. Barely thirty seconds later, Cody dragged Chin in. Before Cody could even leave, the three of them took up posts around their fallen friend.

Kono crouched next to him while Danny and Mauna faced the inside of the Pit with watchful expressions. "Chin, are you okay?"

"Kono…you need to run…get out…of here," Chin grunted, voice clouded with pain.

Danny glared up at Harry perched above them as a lone spectator. He had opened his mouth to start his tirade at the man when Mauna shoved his shoulder and pointed toward the opposite side of the Pit.

"You see," Harry's warm and compassionate voice rang out, "this is what happens when you gain our trust and then plan to break it."

The large shadow lurking under the rock lip stepped into the mottled sunlight. Primeval head, powerful neck and shoulders, muscular legs, all covered in varied scales of oranges, reds, and browns. Danny felt a quivering go up his spine and the prickle of wings wanting to grow. Dragons were not animals with prey instincts, but they definitely knew when they stood in the presence of a dangerous creature.

"You know how I feel about this kind of fight," the dragon inclined his head toward Harry.

Danny recognized the voice as big, tall, dark, and British from the showers.

"Chin, don't, stay down."

He looked over his shoulder at Kono's distressed plea. She was trying to keep her cousin from moving, but Chin already had an arm around his chest and was gathering himself together to get up. Danny's fingers fidgeted as he turned back to face the beast. Definitely a dangerous creature.

"You do as you see fit, Jupiter," Harry said.

Jupiter broke into a run, several thousand pounds of dragon coming like a freight train directly toward them. Danny dug his heels in. A plume of sand sprayed up as the dragon halted only inches away.

"You're either very brave or very stupid," Jupiter snorted. "Not many would hold their ground against me."

"Look, buddy, I don't know what he's told you, but we're not who you think we are," Danny said, craning his head back.

Jupiter nodded his head at Chin behind them. "I've already heard those words today. I'm not that interested in hearing them again."

He swung his head down with an open maw. This time Danny did run. Dodging under the stiff swinging tail, he swiveled to better analyze his attacker. Jupiter seemed disinterested in attacking a fallen man and had his attention on him and Mauna. Which was good for Chin and Kono, but was bad for them.

"I grew up around liars, around thieves and con artists," Jupiter drew himself up tall with his chest puffed out, circling slowly around the edge of the Pit, herding them away from the cousins. "I fought to get myself out of that life."

"Then why are you a thug for him, huh?" Danny questioned and shot a glance up at Harry. "He's the liar! He's lied to you about who we are–"

Jupiter lunged at him. Danny ducked to the side and felt claws latch around his legs. He hit the sandy floor hard, felt his brain rattle around in his skull. The claws pressed his face into the sand. Heart hammering, lungs working overtime to pull in air, he started to panic. Even if he wanted to, shifting wasn't even an option now, not with these cuffs on. And he didn't dare shift just his wings out when a monster such as this could easily shred them like paper.

Hot breath washed over his hands and there was a snap.

"We'll see what kind of man you really are," Jupiter removed his foot from him.

Danny pressed his hands into the sand on either side of him. Pins and needles flooded his arms. He pushed himself to his knees and then his feet, sparing the broken chain a quick look before making eye contact with Jupiter.

"Are you an honorable man, or a coward?" Jupiter asked.

Danny's hands freely fluttered up to tap himself on the chest. "I'm a cop."

Jupiter's eyes narrowed and he looked up at Harry.

"Why are you looking at me? You lived around liars, you know how they are," Harry said and pointed at them.

Danny licked his lips and tried again. "You've got to listen to me–"

Jupiter physically scooped him up with one front foot and flung him. He hit the ground with a thump. Through the ringing in his ears and his own labored breath, Danny caught his next words.

"I've heard it all. I've heard all the excuses. You either fight me or die like cowards."

Danny sat up, wincing at several protesting muscles. Nothing felt broken. Yet. He wiped the grit off his face and returned to his feet, kicking off the sandals he was wearing. What a fine day to be in shorts and a t-shirt.

"Come on, pretty boy, you want an honorable fight?" Mauna yelled. She stuck her wrists up and jerked the chain between them. "Let's make it fair."

He shook his head in disbelief. Or maybe exasperation. Miss Molotov Cocktail, indeed. Danny used the brief lull to really look at Jupiter. What could he attack? What was the weak spot on him? Every dragon had its vulnerabilities. But did that include muddy gene dragons?

A rigid display of spines protruding from between the heavy plates on his back would make it hard to get on him. His neck, chest, and belly were well protected with scales and plates much like Danny's own. The guy even had scaling on his nose and around his eyes. He was a tank.

His gut sank. Without being able to shift, they were screwed.

Jupiter grabbed the chain between Mauna's cuffs and cleanly bit through it. She backpedaled away from the teeth he bared at her. He lowered his head and rushed her like a bull, catching her in the stomach with his nose and tossing her up. She tumbled to the ground.

"Feel like a champion, headbutting a woman? Huh?" Danny questioned and spread his arms wide.

Jupiter smoothly shifted course and came at him. Relying on speed and agility rather than brute strength, because he was greatly lacking in that area in this fight, he fled. At the last second he abruptly changed direction. The resounding thud of Jupiter hitting the rock wall was music to his ears.

He headed toward Mauna. "You nuts? Why didn't you get out of the way?"

Mauna huffed, still slightly bent over with her hands on her knees. "Shut up."

They split up and ran opposite ways around the Pit with Jupiter on Danny's tail. He attempted to bite at him once and reached out to trip him again, but missed. The failures of the champion to bring him down sparked a certain dread in Danny's mind. He wasn't really trying.

"Jupiter, you do realize that these two men were the ones Cody found stalking outside of some of our female fighters' huts. Outside of Europa's hut," Harry said impatiently. His tone of voice had changed from warm to antsy. "Thieves, I can forgive. Perverts? I can't find it in my heart. I would've thought you were on the same page."

His heart seized and skipped a few beats. It was the same lie that had nearly gotten Chin killed.

"Harry," Jupiter ceased chasing him and made his way to the center of the Pit. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"No, no, no, no," Danny held his palms together in a pleading gesture. "We're cops, not perverts. We're undercover cops."

He was soundly ignored.

"Because you know what I do to guys who mess with my girls," Jupiter said. The dragon zeroed in on Danny. "You've seen what I do to guys who mess with my girls."

The half-hearted game of cat and mouse was over. The attack happened so fast that Danny almost missed it even though it happened in slow motion. He tried to leap out of the way. Teeth closed around his midsection. Then he was hurtling through the air.

Time moved normally again as he hit the ground and stars danced at the edge of his vision. Then the stinging started.

"I gave your friend the curtesy of letting him get back up," Jupiter grabbed his ankle with his front foot and dragged him through the sand. "I don't think I'm going to extend to you that same curtesy."

Danny gritted his teeth and kicked at the rough foot holding him. His shirt was torn in several places, the edges of the cloth turning red from various places where monstrous teeth had broken his skin. His joints hurt from the hard landing, but his fight or flight response had fully kicked in.

He chose to fight.

Diamond shaped scales covered his bare shins, bones cracked and rearranged, toes grew, and his toenails went from short to wickedly long claws. He mercilessly dug his spur like dewclaw into Jupiter's leg the same time Mauna hit his neck in a flying jump. The combined surprise caused him to let go.

Mauna held the big horn on the other side of his head like a steer wrestler and raked black claws under his jaw where the softer hollows were. Where the softer hollows were supposed to be, anyway.

Jupiter craned his head around with parted jaws, but she was firmly in a spot he couldn't reach.

"Guess that's what you get for being too buff, huh, pal?" Danny twitched a hand as he grew the claws out on it. The cuffs bit into him with the addition of his scales. He leapt and grabbed the same horn, following Mauna's lead.

A low and rumbling laugh vibrated in Jupiter's throat under their fingers. His weight shifted back as he dropped to his rump. He brought a hindleg up and squarely kicked Danny in the back, jerking Mauna off by her ankle at the same time.

"You talk too much," Jupiter said and closed his teeth around Danny's calf.

* * *

Europa had led him through the jungle on a path that only she knew, through trees and over streams, taking sharp turns in odd places that her lanky Arboreal body allowed her to take with ease. Eventually they came to the chain link fence surrounding the property with its many No Trespassing signs. They hopped it and now she was slowing her breakneck sprint. He slowed as well.

"Where are they?" Steve asked.

She slunk off through the undergrowth in a northeast direction. "This way."

He followed with his senses tuned in to the sounds, sights, and smells around him. To his left were the quiet sounds of life. That must have been where the main collection of huts was. The sights and smells of the jungle were familiar to him. He'd done plenty of playing in the jungle as a teen and had enough jungle training as a SEAL to feel comfortable in the dense foliage.

"Are you dudes really going to take out Harry?" Europa asked, glancing over her shoulder at him.

Steve nodded grimly.

She inhaled and blew it out in a sigh. "You better, or I just screwed my whole family over."

"Why?" he asked.

"I was a stupid idiot and – down, down! Stay here."

Steve dropped down low, hoping his dark mottled hide would keep him hidden in the shadows cast by the tree canopy. Europa trotted off at an angle. She was calling to someone.

"Hey, Angel. Angel!"

He tilted his head. Another dragon had paused to talk to Europa. Green and white, he looked like an Amphibious/Drake. Despite not being able to hear their conversation, he read their body language well. The crossbreed was nervous. Agitated. Whatever he said had Europa take on the same demeanor. Her long thin tail lashed side to side as she got up in the other's face. He shrunk away slightly from the aggressive posturing.

Europa looked back at him. "Steve!"

Taking that as a sign that the newcomer was no threat, or at least she perceived him to be no threat, he stood up and joined them.

"Who the hell is this?" the crossbreed puffed up and eyed Steve.

"One of the cops. Come on. We gotta move, now. Now, now!" Europa shoved into his shoulder and bolted away, forgoing all subtlety.

He shot off after her as did the other crossbreed. "What's wrong? Where's my team?"

"Angel said they're in the Pit with Jupiter. Christ, what did Harry tell him?"

"I don't know, but he was getting pissed when I left," the crossbreed said. "Whatever he told him wasn't good."

"Who's Jupiter?" he questioned, clearing a fallen log. Even with his long leg span he was having a hard time keeping up with the cheetah like build that Europa had.

"Harry's prized fighter," the dragon behind him said.

Red flashed before Steve's eyes. His team were fair fighters, but he had a hard time believing that this was a fair fight. They needed backup. Now. Muscles trembling from running so hard for so long, he pushed through with an extra burst of speed and pulled even with Europa.

They crested a hill. The ground dipped toward a giant hole easily seventy feet across and twenty feet deep. There was no question about it. This was the Pit.

Steve started to rush down the slope, but Europa blocked him. "You can't fight Jupiter. He'll crush you."

A gut wrenching scream of pain rose from the Pit like a soul trying to escape Hell. Steve bulled past Europa. The glimpse of the scene happening on the sandy floor of the arena had his blood running cold as he leapt off the rocky edge and tackled the heavily built dragon.

They rolled and broke apart.

"Danny?" he wanted to look at his partner, but didn't dare take his eyes off the other dragon.

"About damn time you showed up," came the reply from somewhere behind him. It was laced with pain and a rough coughing followed it.

The other dragon who must have been Jupiter ran at him. Steve reared back to meet the attack and immediately realized he'd misjudged it. Jupiter kept his head low and hooked his snout and horns under his belly, flipping him over his back.

Steve barely caught himself before sharp spines impaled him. He pushed off. Ducking the swinging tail, he circled around again and bit down on the one big horn that wasn't busted, yanking his head down. He kept himself pressed against the other dragon to stay out of the way of the jaws, doing a floundering dance all the while watching where he put his feet as he was keenly aware of his teammates littering the ground around them. Jupiter missed stepping on a scrambling Mauna by a hair's breadth as he stood up on his hindlegs.

Claws snagged Steve's chest. Jupiter gave him a firm shove with a front leg and got him out far enough from him. His crowded teeth sank into his right gliding wing.

Instinctually, Steve had to release his hold on the horn or risk his wing getting ripped off. Using his much more flexible neck to his advantage, he twisted and clamped his jaws around Jupiter's face.

Jupiter dropped, bringing him down with him. Forced to let go, Steve repositioned and bit into the hollow of his jaw. Surprise etched his features.

"Many have made that mistake," Jupiter said, and kicked him off with his hindfeet.

Steve put some distance between him and the fighter. His one wing was relatively undamaged, only bleeding slightly from a few piercings through the membrane. Cuts from the kick stung on his abdomen. He backed up a few more steps and chanced a glance upward. Europa, Angel, and two other men he didn't know stood around the rim of the Pit.

"Steve."

He looked at his partner and felt his blood boil in his veins. Teeth marks around the ribcage and leg, blood on his face, arm tucked around his ribs, leg held out gingerly, he looked awful.

"You better win, you Neanderthal," Danny rasped.

Steve smirked. "I'm going to get you out of here."

He eyed the man with the prematurely white hair standing next to a younger blond man. The white haired guy was Harry. He'd bet on it. He was the head of the snake. Take him out of the picture first, worry about the rest later.

Steve ran at the wall. While being seven and a half feet tall helped, being part Arboreal helped even more. With a powerful push of his hindlegs, he sprung upward and balanced on the edge of the Pit. The humans scattered. He snarled and lunged for Harry.

And fell short. Pain surged up his back as he was dragged back over the edge into the Pit. Reeling when the jaws released his tail, he stumbled to his feet and faced the fighter. Jupiter rose up onto his hindfeet and roared.

"Jupiter, no!" Europa squawked.

Angel put a front foot out to keep her from jumping in.

Steve slipped out of the way of the claws. He finally yelled as teeth sunk into his thigh. Jupiter pulled him to the ground. He raked his hind claws down Jupiter's throat, feeling them slide uselessly off the abnormally dense scales and plates.

"Stop!"

Jupiter backpedaled, dragging Steve along with him like a hyena with a corpse. Steve vaulted up and went for the eyes. He slashed with his front claws, drawing blood from the small vulnerable spot of the eye hollow in his skull. Another slash drew more blood. He slashed out for a third time and Jupiter swung his head around.

He howled as teeth crunched down on his left foreleg in a quick but powerful bite. Bones grated against each other, white ends poking through his shredded skin. He didn't have much time to let the pain cloud his senses as a cold wave of adrenaline went through him again when the crushing teeth caught around the back of his neck.

"Steve!"

"Jupiter! Stop!"

"Europa, stop, don't go in there!"

"Piss off, Angel!"

Jupiter shook him like a dog toy. Gray swamped his vision. Steve bucked violently and tore free before he could do it again. He had to get away. Had to get his team away. Warm blood oozed down his neck and between his shoulders as he tried move. A massive front foot pressed his head into the sand.

Through hazy eye sight, Steve saw Europa jump down into the arena.

"Baby girl, what're you doing?"

"Jupiter, you need to stop," her voice quaked and her eyes darted around the destruction he had dealt.

"You don't need to see this. Get out of here," Jupiter flexed his claws that were digging into Steve's skull.

"No," she shook her head. "What did Harry tell you?"

"Europa, what do you mean?" Harry's voice crowed from above.

She kept her eyes on Jupiter. "What. Did. He. Tell. You?"

Steve exhaled as the grip on him lessened. His heart thudded out of control in his chest from the adrenaline and the injuries, but he tried to not focus on that and focused instead on the conversation taking place.

"That they were conmen planning on blackmailing the fighters, and that Cody caught the two men sneaking around the girls' huts. Around your hut," Jupiter related slowly, eyes sliding up to narrow meaningfully at Harry. "And that one was a rapist."

Steve snorted softly.

"No, no one was sneaking around my hut. Oh my god, Jupiter, they're cops. Undercover, because Harry murdered Murakami and his body washed up on Oahu," Europa said.

Not quite how or why they were on this case, but it was a stronger argument than they got an anonymous tip.

Jupiter removed his foot from his head and Steve worked his way to his feet. His left thigh alternated between burning and outright pulsating like it had been through a meat grinder. Bile churned in the back of his throat from the break in his foreleg, but he limped toward his partner if for nothing other than he needed the comfort of his best friend.

"Murakami was a blackmailer. I did what I had to in order to protect the fighters," Harry reasoned.

"But he lied about who we are," another voice said from across the arena.

Steve looked over at Kono protectively guarding Chin. He swallowed thickly. Chin hardly looked alive.

"I didn't lie. You came into this community with the intent of breaking our trust later," Harry said.

Jupiter looked at Harry and then at Europa again. "You believe them? They really are cops?"

Europa nodded.

Harry flung his arms out. He pointed at the two of them. "Cops that would imprison you and the other fighters. Put your moons in prison, shut down this operation that provides for so many people, put those that escaped out of the job. It's just a different kind of theft."

Steve eased down next to Danny, keeping his weight to the right side of his body. He didn't miss the subtle flaring of the spines along Jupiter's back or the slightly exposed teeth as Harry talked.

"Jupiter," Europa walked up to him and tilted her head back to look him in the eye. "You want to know where my mind's always at?"

Both Harry and Jupiter looked surprised.

"Him," Europa snarled and glared at Harry. Her gray eyes locked onto his golden ones again. "When I was seventeen, I got in some trouble. Harry bailed me out, but on one condition. That I fight for him for a year."

"You're going to be twenty-one in two months. It's been more than a year," Jupiter murmured.

"Because he threatened me that if I ever leave, he'll let the gang that I pissed off know where my family lives," she hissed. Tears streamed down her face. "I have a little sister and a brother that barely know me, and my mom probably just thinks that I ran off, but every day I trained, every time I ever got into this freaking Pit, it was to protect them."

"I feel like I missed a huge chunk of what's going on here," Danny muttered to Steve.

"I make that deal with many fighters. I help them out, they fight for me for a year, and then they're free to leave, right, Angel?" Harry turned toward the dragon standing on the rim of the Pit. "I made that deal for you, didn't I?"

Angel ducked his head. "Yeah."

"And you stayed of your own volition, didn't you?" Harry asked.

"Yeah."

Harry looked at Jupiter and pointed at Europa. "She's lying to you. She's free to leave anytime, but now she's just trying to take us all down since she's obviously under the thumb of these cops."

Europa jerked forward like she was going to jump at him. Jupiter stepped in front of her, though, and shook his head.

"Harry, I've been a loyal fighter for you for years," he said. For such a beast, the way he looked at Europa was very soft and gentle. "I've never questioned your decisions because you took good care of us. Paid us well, fed us well, provided a place to train, a home to come back to."

A smug grin appeared on Harry's face.

"And you've lied to my face the entire time," Jupiter pivoted and inclined his head toward him.

Harry's smug face drained of color.

"You had me nearly kill an innocent man today, a man doing his job because of your mistake," Jupiter continued. "You lied to me and had me nearly kill four more because you're a sick and twisted coward with no honor. And you've tormented one of my moons. For years."

Jupiter leapt from the ground to the rim in a single bound. Harry pulled a gun from the back of his pants and aimed it at him with the slightest shake in his hand. Angel and Cody both backpedaled away from the standoff.

"You've seen what I do to guys who mess with my girls," Jupiter said.

Harry fired a shot and chips of scale went flying from where it clipped Jupiter on the shoulder. It didn't phase him. Jupiter swiped out with his front foot and caught Harry in a move that sent him flying into the trees.

Though they could no longer see what was happening from inside the Pit, they heard Harry's voice. "Jupiter – you wouldn't dare – stay away from me – no, no, no–"

A scream pierced the jungle. Silence fell a heartbeat later.

Europa quaked like a leaf, but managed to collect herself. She glanced up at the rim. "Where's Cody?"

"Uh…currently hauling ass in the opposite direction," Angel replied.

"Go get him!" Europa snapped.

Angel careened away.

Jupiter reappeared and jumped down into the Pit. "Harry's not going to ever bother you again, baby girl."

Europa nodded and bumped her head against his. "Can you help me get these guys out of the Pit? You did a number on them, jerk."

"Go get one of the Jeeps and I'll do the rest," Jupiter instructed.

As Europa scurried up the rocky wall, Jupiter faced Steve and Danny. He approached and then stopped while still a good few feet away when Steve flexed the fins on his neck and back aggressively.

"Apologies won't cover what I've done," he said. "I don't expect you to like me or forgive me, but let me help you now."

Steve gathered his feet under him and stood shakily. He scowled at the fighter. However, he did need help moving his team because with a broken foreleg and out of service hindleg, he couldn't get around very well. He wanted to hit him for everything he'd done, but couldn't. He wanted to chew him out, but paused before he could open his mouth at the sound of a struggle above the Pit.

A Drake came flying over the edge and hit the ground. He moaned and didn't get up. Angel jumped down with keys dangling from his mouth.

"I always wanted a rematch with Cody," he spat the keys out. "Looks like I win."

Steve held his position while Angel went around unlocking the cuffs. He started to sway on his feet and eventually had to lean against the wall for support. His muscles shivered like Jell-O and his stomach rolled from the adrenaline dump.

"You look like hell," Jupiter grunted.

Steve curled a lip. "You almost killed my team. My family."

Jupiter leveled him with a meaningful glare. "Only because I was protecting mine."

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **This Thursday, yes, this Thursday, on "Dragons", I'm going to post a tag/wrap up scene for this three parter.**

 **I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, the last fight scene was the one I had in mind when I decided to write this particular storyline.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following, and faving!**


	58. Fact 52 Part IV

**Every story needs a good wrap up. Whether or not that's what this is, I'll let you decide.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #52: It's always fight, flight, or freeze, no matter the species.**

 **Season: Late Season 3**

 **Part IV**

As the hazy fog started to lift bit by bit, it was replaced by a thudding in his head. He groaned. He'd still rather stay in the dark and painless fog instead of face what had happened to him. Falling back into the bliss of painlessness, he almost made it. He was _this_ close.

"Danno?"

And then he cracked his eyes into slits and glared at his partner.

"Whose bright idea was it to put us in the same room together?" Danny questioned.

Steve had the nerve to smirk at him from where he lay in the hospital bed only five feet away from Danny's. He was on his right side, keeping any and all weight off of the cast on his arm and most likely the numerous stitches on his thigh and the back of his neck. And off of an unsavory place from the chomp on his tail.

"Mine."

They both looked at the doorway where Kono stood nursing a cup of coffee. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. A white butterfly bandage held a cut on her forehead together and more white bandages on her right bicep peeked out from her short sleeve shirt.

Danny worked his way up higher on the pillows propped behind him, biting back grunts of discomfort at cracked ribs. "How's Chin?"

Kono sighed and wandered the rest of the way into the room. She sat on a chair placed between the beds. "He had a low grade fever for a while, so they put him on antibiotics to fight the infection. It's dropped back down and the doc said he's going to be fine."

"And how about you, huh?" Danny asked.

"I've got three boys in hospital beds. How do you think I am?" she snapped, and then immediately looked sheepish and combed her fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry. I've just been worried."

"Hey, it's okay," Steve said. He cleared his throat and glanced between the two of them. "I…I shouldn't have made you guys go undercover with so little information. I almost got Chin killed, and I'm sorry."

"What am I, chopped liver?" Danny waved a hand at himself. His tone, however, was light, confirming the fact that he wasn't taking genuine offence.

"And you too, partner," Steve added. "And Kono, and Mauna."

"Speaking of Miss Molotov Cocktail, where is she?" Danny asked.

Kono shrugged. "Had her shoulder put back in place, checked on you guys, and then split. Haven't seen her since yesterday afternoon."

Danny's brows shot up. "I've been asleep since yesterday afternoon? What time is it?"

"A little after ten in the morning," Kono said. "Trust me, you needed it."

"I'll take your word for it," Danny said. Truly, he could feel most of his aches and pains, even through the dulling the meds caused. Cracked ribs, stitched bite marks, kneecap that had been dislocated, and bruises. Bruises everywhere.

"What about the case?" Steve asked, getting down to business, though he looked more like a little kid laying on his side waiting for a bedtime story than a Lieutenant Commander waiting for his teammate to report.

"Harry's dead. Jupiter made sure of that," Kono said. "Cody's in custody in the dragon holding cell at HPD. Cops found evidence of blackmail, betting records, tax evasion, and the gun that Harry had on him actually looks like it can be connected to another unsolved murder as well as Murakami's."

"Well, too bad the supreme liar himself is dead, otherwise we could pin everything on him," Danny's fingers fluttered out before stilling to curl into a loose fist. "What about Cody? What's the schmuck being charged with?"

"Being an accomplice to murder and attempted murder, but he's not talking and a lot of the residents from the community are still too skittish to talk to us. Harry had a lot of them scared of something happening to them or their families, even though it seems most of them are clean or at least aren't fighters," Kono said. She looked down into her styrofoam coffee cup.

"What about the fighters?" Steve asked.

Kono frowned at her cup. "A lot of them had records and warrants out for them. Some of them disappeared before the cops could get there. The ones we did arrest aren't talking or honestly didn't know about Harry's nasty habit of blackmailing people into fighting for him."

The room fell silent, even the bright morning sun coming in through the window failing to lighten the dark mood that had overcome them. Danny's eyes darted around the room in search of something lighter to talk about, despite them needing to know about the case. He just wasn't up for taking on the dreary task right now.

He spotted a white envelope on the side table and picked it up. It had no name on the outside. Curious, he lifted the flap and slid out the card.

"Why'd you have us together in the same room?" Steve asked.

"So I wouldn't have to be jumping between three rooms. I'd just have one for Chin and one for you guys," Kono answered.

"Uh, guys," Danny sat up straighter in his bed and waved the card around. "You know how I complain that the insurance doesn't cover all of our hospital bills, right? And how if I'm not dishing out money for child support or to the garage to fix the Camaro, it's going to the hospital, okay?"

"Is there a point to this?" Steve asked.

Danny flipped the card around. "Jupiter picked up the tab."

Steve pushed himself up on his elbow and barked, "What?!"

"He left this card explaining that he knows that a cop's salary sucks and that he's already paid for whatever the insurance didn't cover. Atonement for what he did or whatever."

Kono snatched the card out of his hand and read through it with a scowl. She flicked the card back onto his bed. "He was gone by time the cops started arresting people and I already had this conversation with Europa."

"Europa? What's she got to do with this?" Danny questioned.

"She and Angel agreed to testify against Cody and give us all the information they have on the community and what Harry was up to, but only on one condition," Kono exhaled heavily. "They weren't going to say a word about Jupiter or his moons."

"Oh, yeah, sure, let that guy off the hook," Danny's hands danced around vividly. "He only tried to kill us. No biggie."

"Yeah, that's what I said," Kono sagged in her seat. "She told me that if we wanted to know what they knew, that was the only way. Jupiter apparently took her under his wing and kept her safe, otherwise Europa said she was sure she would've been dead by now, either by getting killed in a fight, murdered by Harry, or by taking her own life just to get out of it all. Jupiter kept her sane."

Danny hummed lowly. "Sounds like it doesn't matter either way. He's gone, so we can't even arrest him if we tried."

Kono swirled the contents of her cup around and downed the last of her coffee. Out of them all, Danny understood her particular want to see justice prevail after what Jupiter did to Chin. It may not happen as soon as they wanted it to, but Jupiter would eventually come out of whatever hole he had crawled in and that's when they would get him.

"Kono?" A familiar face poked her head in.

"Hey, Kori," Danny greeted.

Kori smiled. "Ah, my two favorite trouble magnets. We're going to have to get a punch card for you guys."

"What, every fifth bone set or tenth x-ray taken is free?" Danny asked.

She just grinned and looked at Kono. "Chin's awake and is asking for you. Told him I had an idea where you were."

Kono practically levitated out of the chair and to the door. "I'll come see you guys later."

She vanished and Kori shook her head. "I see you got the card Europa left."

"Europa was here?" Steve asked.

"She talked to Kono for a little while and then asked if I'd leave the card in your room," Kori said. "Kind of a funny name, isn't it? One of the moons of Jupiter."

"You have no idea," Danny mumbled as she left the room. Quiet permeated the room for a few brief seconds before he had to break it. He glanced across at Steve. "I don't think I've ever seen you lose a fight so miserably, Super SEAL."

"They didn't teach us how to take down muddy genes," Steve said. "Not like you did much better."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong," Danny held up a hand. "You see, I was in dragon cuffs and was thus stuck in human form whereas you were fully shifted and went down faster than I did."

Steve made a face at him and glared down. He picked at the sheets on the bed for a second before looking back up at him. "I'm glad you're alright, bud."

Danny smirked. "I'm glad you're alright, too, you Neanderthal. But, I have something to say to you."

"Imagine that," Steve quirked a brow.

"Next time we have an undercover operation, you get to go in and get your ass handed to you twice in twenty-four hours while I sit in the hotel room, okay?"

"Whatever you say, Danno."

* * *

 **Next Tuesday on "Dragons", our Hawaiian heroes get mixed up with some actual superheroes, but it's not quite what you think.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following, and faving!** **I hope you enjoyed this end scene!**


	59. Fact 53

**This one's for you, cargumentluv.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #53: Dragons are basically superheroes.**

 **Season: Late Season 3**

"How did you get him back to normal again?"

Natasha looked over her shoulder at Steve, McGarrett, not Captain Rogers, in the back of the quinjet. The worry line between his brows was deep and the muscles in his jaw were taut, everything pulled tight by worry for his friend. She understood where he was coming from.

"Cognitive recalibration," she said.

"Banged my head really hard," Clint translated flatly.

Steve nodded grimly as Tony's voice crackled over the comms.

" _I've got Selvig on the roof with the Tesseract. Big and scaly was protecting him, but now I've got him on my tail on a merry chase around the block."_

"Can you double back and get to Selvig?" Cap asked.

" _Doesn't matter. There's a protective shield around it. I'm bringing Jersey back around to you guys."_

Steve stepped away from the cockpit. "Open the bay door. I'll keep Danny busy, you guys help Stark."

"McGarrett, are you sure you can handle him?" Cap asked.

Steve smirked. "Handle him? No. Make him mad enough that all his attention will be on me? That, I can do."

"Give him hell, McGarrett," Clint said and opened the bay door.

The wind whipped into the back of the quinjet. Steve waited until he saw the Iron Man suit zip by. He dove out of the quinjet and shifted as he fell. Just as he had suspected, his partner had been so zeroed in on Tony that he had failed to take notice of the incoming attack from above.

Danny momentarily fell from the sky at the impact of a fully shifted dragon landing on his back. It didn't last long. He rolled and scraped along one of the many towering buildings, shattering windows and sending glass raining down in a deadly fountain. Steve grit his teeth and held on.

Down below, the battle had moved to the ground after one of the stolen quinjets had crashed. The quinjet the two cousins were in was still mostly operational and they used it to their full advantage, picking off Chitauri as they flew by on their strange crafts.

Chin tapped into the comms. "Captain, there're civilians trapped in a few of these buildings."

Kono craned her head upward. "Steve's going to get his ass handed to him trying to fight Danny midair."

"He's got him, cuz," Chin assured.

The quinjet shook as a squadron of Chitauri did a strafing run on it. Emergency lights flickered on the console and the quinjet dipped steeply on one side.

"Hold on to something," Chin warned and pressed the controls forward. If they were going to go down, they were going to inflict some damage on the enemy, too.

The quinjet plowed into a group of Chitauri advancing on Cap and Natasha, taking out a few and scattering the others. They clambered out of the back with weapons kindly provided by SHIELD, firing at the aliens before they could get close again.

"What's the plan, Captain?" Kono called out as she and Chin backed toward Cap, Natasha, Clint, and Thor.

"We need to close that portal," Cap pointed up at the gaping hole in the sky.

They turned as one at the sound of a little motor approaching. Chin cracked a grin. Tony had been right all along. Something he wouldn't admit aloud in fear of puffing the man's already swollen ego.

"Banner," Cap greeted stiffly.

Bruce dismounted the tiny bike and waved a hand at the destruction around them. "Well, this all looks terrible."

There was a screech up above as Steve and Danny crashed into another building, adding an almost comic effect to Bruce's statement.

"I've seen worse," Natasha said with a meaningful look.

Bruce ducked his head. "Sorry."

"No, we could use a little worse right now," she added.

" _Is that Banner?"_

"You were right," Cap said.

" _Tell him to suit up. I'm bringing the party to you guys."_

A low groan like a glacier moving reverberated through the air. A red and gold speck peeled around the edge of a building, followed by what had to be the most massive creature Chin had ever seen. And he lived around three supposedly extinct dragons.

"I don't see how that's a party," Natasha shook her head.

Bruce started walking _toward_ it.

"Doctor Banner, this may be a good time to get angry," Cap said.

"That's my secret, Captain," Bruce said calmly. "I'm always angry."

Up in the sky, Steve felt himself making headway. Danny was an excellent flyer, but he wasn't used to carrying this much weight. Anyone would start to tire eventually after carrying a dragon bigger than himself while doing maneuvers while running on probably no sleep. Red veins around unnatural electric blue irises only fueled Steve's rage at Loki and whatever he had done to and forced his partner to do.

"Come on, man, come on!" Steve locked his jaws around the thickly armored neck and took a risk by swinging himself off his partner's back and underneath him.

The sudden shift in weight did the trick. Danny flapped and spiraled out of control. He careened into a building, big claws scrabbling for a hold on the structure but finding none. They smacked down into the torn up asphalt close to where the others were fighting.

Steve backpedaled over a car, waiting to see if that had been a hard enough hit to set his partner straight. Danny lifted his head and shook it. Staring, waiting, Steve scowled when he caught the electric blue still in his eyes.

"Damn it," he cursed. "Come on Danny, snap out of it!"

"McGarrett!"

Steve glanced over his shoulder at Cap and Natasha fighting up on a bridge only a few hundred feet away. He should not have taken his eyes off his partner for even that brief moment. Danny hit him like a tank, foot long claws slicing and flaying at him.

Cap's shield ricocheted off Danny's heavily armored shoulder and diverted his attention.

Danny forgot Steve and lunged at Cap and Natasha on the bridge with outstretched wings, probably intending to take one of them on a ride of terror in the sky. Steve rolled to his feet and sprang after him, but was one nanosecond short of the Hulk.

A big green fist hit Danny square in the side of the head and sent him sprawling into the asphalt.

"Danny!" Steve scrambled over shattered cement blocks to check on his partner.

Hulk bounced away with a satisfied snort, continuing his rampage against the invading forces.

Steve tapped Danny's face rapidly with short claws. Dragon were durable and extremely hard to break, but taking a fist to the face from an even more invincible creature could do some damage. Luckily, he didn't see any dents in his skull or see much blood.

"Danny, come on, man, wake up," Steve repeated over and over.

An eyelid fluttered open, pale blue iris rotating in its socket in a daze before settling on him.

"Steve?"

Steve smirked. "Glad to have you back, partner."

Danny's gaze slid over his shoulder to the goings on in the sky and surrounding city. "Huh. Am I just crazy, or is there a giant black hole in the sky with aliens flooding out of it?"

"That's about the size of it," Steve confirmed. He offered him a front foot to help him up. "Come on, we've got some avenging to do."

* * *

"Hold up, hold up! Wait a second. Stop. Do not pass Go."

"What?" Steve looked up at Danny, wincing as the stitches on the back of his neck pulled.

Danny had mastered the art of using his hands while walking with crutches and proceeded to demonstrate his mastery at that moment. "I'm fine with you loons having a running commentary during the movie, because you especially have no movie etiquette, but why is it that every time you start working yourself into a movie, you always add me in?"

"He added all of us in," Kono chimed from the kitchen.

"But he always makes me the damsel in distress. Why do you always do that, huh?" Danny flapped an accusatory hand at him.

Steve shrugged. "Because whenever something bad happens it always happens to you."

"Yeah, well, no thanks to you," Danny hobbled the rest of the way over to the couch and sat gingerly in the corner opposite of Steve. He set his crutches off to the side. He despised the things. Thankfully, with all the shifting and cracking that dragon bones, ligaments, and muscles went through regularly, a displaced kneecap would heal phenomenally faster than a human's would, but it still sucked in the meantime.

"He still saved our butts while getting his kicked," Kono said as she walked back into the living room. She set a glass of juice on the end table next to the comfy chair Chin was propped in.

"That's what you call losing with style," Danny said.

Steve rubbed his hand across the bandages on the back of his neck with a frown. "Are you going to hold that against me for the rest of our partnership?"

"Only if you keep making me the one that needs to be rescued in your movie retellings," Danny quipped. He grinned. "How about next time, you get to be the one controlled by Loki with his staff of bad juju or whatever it is."

"It's an Infinity Stone," Chin commented quietly and sipped his juice. He met their perked brows with an even look. "I read the comics."

"Chin Ho, the man of many secrets," Danny said.

"Comic book nerd or not, I'm just glad my cuz is okay," Kono said.

Chin smiled faintly. "Mahalo."

* * *

 **Well, it was a ridiculous little chapter, but it was fun. Never written any Marvel characters outside of X-Men before.**

 **There is an artwork for this chapter if you want to check out the page. The height difference is intended as I imagined the dragons bigger in the Avengers universe.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", Kono signed up to be a cop, not a babysitter.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, and faving!**


	60. Fact 54

**So happy summer is here. However, that means I'm kept busy.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #54: Keeping a dragon from shifting is considered a violation of basic rights, even if it's for their own good.**

 **Season: Late Season 3**

"Respectfully, Grace, I'm going to murder your dad along with your Uncle Steve and Uncle Chin," Kono said, venting a long sigh through her nose and combing her fingers through her hair as they drove along the quiet street in her little red Cruze.

Grace furrowed her brows. "Why?"

Kono could come up with a litany of reasons why. Taking care of three wounded men, dragon blooded men no less, for a week had proved to be quite taxing on her physically and mentally. For the first few days it had been Steve she'd had to keep the closest eye on. But Danny and Chin inevitably became restless, too, and turned into nuisances.

"Uncle Steve probably wants to be swimming, but he can't with his cast," Grace started to list the reasons herself. "Uncle Chin doesn't like being cooped up in the house, and Danno is probably ready to smack Uncle Steve with his crutches."

"Dang, girl, spot on," Kono held out a hand for a high five.

She put the car in park and killed the engine outside of Danny's house. With it being his weekend with Grace, he had wanted to go home and was pretty much held captive by Steve who didn't think he should be left alone with his gimpy leg and busted ribs. Kono and Grace volunteered to pick up whatever he needed.

"I just hope they haven't burned the house down yet," Kono said in an almost mutter.

Grace pulled her key out of her pocket and let them inside.

"Okay, you go get your stuff and I'll go get your dad's stuff," Kono said.

Grace peeled away toward her bedroom and Kono toward Danny's. The collection of clothes and shower products started. She didn't understand men sometimes. It's not like Kono hadn't seen boxers before, but apparently it was a big deal to send her to pick them up.

"You don't even have any crazy ones," Kono cracked a grin as she tossed a few into the duffle bag he'd sent with her. Now his socks, on the other hand, were a variety of crazy.

There was a light knock on the wide open front door.

Kono peeked her head around the corner. She relaxed, recognizing the face on the other side of the screen door. She pulled it open. "Hey, Brooklyn."

Brooklyn smiled. "Hey, Kono, right?"

She nodded and then pointed at her midsection. "Had the baby?"

"Yeah, like a month and a half ago," Brooklyn raised a hand up. "Where did you guys go? You totally dropped off the face of the planet, and the only time I'd see Danny at home was late at night and I didn't want to come bug him 'cause I know you guys work weird hours."

"We had a few rough cases," Kono said. Danny getting kidnapped and the subsequent break up of the breeding operation, their adventure to the deserted island, and their most recent infiltration of the fighting community had kept them busy.

"Brooklyn!" Grace waved at the woman. "You had your baby? What was it? What'd you name it?"

Brooklyn tousled the dark chestnut fringe across her face with a proud, motherly grin. "It was a girl, she was born on March 1st, and her name is Vega Glory Shavell. And she looks beautiful in that blanket you got me."

Grace's smile broadened.

"So, where is Danny? The Camaro's not here and hasn't been here for a few days, and I didn't recognize the red car, so I came over to check it out," Brooklyn explained with a fleeting look over her shoulder at the Cruze.

"Danno busted his knee and is on crutches. Uncle Steve doesn't think it's a good idea for him to be alone," Grace said.

Brooklyn winced. "Ouch. Well, tell him I said hi and to get better soon. I want him to meet Vega sometime."

"Will do. Later, Brooklyn," Kono said as the woman retreated to her house across the street and up two. She turned to Grace. "You got your shower stuff and pajamas?"

Grace nodded. "You got Danno's underwear?"

Kono felt her cheeks flush before she could stop it and had to giggle. "Got them. Hey, you know what you need to do? Get your dad some crazy looking boxers."

* * *

A series of scenarios had rolled through Kono's head as they pulled into Steve's driveway. Though she projected her cousin's outward calm and optimism, she had to grudgingly admit that the job had taken its toll on her by turning her into a pessimist. Worst case always flashed to the fore. And with their luck, worst case was usually the order of the day.

At least there was no smoke rolling from the house.

Grace, however, held no such misgivings and hopped out of the car with her backpack slung over one shoulder. Kono had to take long strides to catch up to her.

"Look, someone brought flowers," Grace pointed at the bouquet sitting to the side of the front door.

Had they been in a vase, Kono may have been worried about a bomb. Wrapped in simple brown paper as they were, she was more curious than worried about them. She urged Grace in. Nudging the bouquet with the toe of her sandal and not having her foot blown off was a good sign, so she picked it up by the stems poking out from the bottom.

"Hey, did you guys not hear the doorbell ring?" she questioned as she strode into the house.

"What? No one stopped by while you guys were gone," Danny waved a hand wildly at the door, his other arm wrapped around his daughter's shoulders.

"Well, someone left you flowers," Kono waggled the bouquet. She dropped his duffle bag at the foot of the stairs and walked into the kitchen while looking at the small card that had come with the flowers. Maybe Jupiter was still 'atoning' for his misdeeds. "Huh. Just says 'To Steve' on it."

Chin was mixing milk into his coffee by the pot and laughed lightly. "Looks like someone has a secret admirer."

The lanai door opened and shut. "Ooo, is Gabby sending you flowers, Danno?"

"Not me, you big oaf, _you_ have a secret admirer."

"What?"

Kono shook her head and rolled her eyes as Steve came into the kitchen, looking suspiciously wet. "Were you swimming?"

Steve didn't answer and zeroed in on the bouquet. His nose wrinkled. "Ugh. Lavender."

Kono looked down at the odd arrangement of honeysuckles, lavender sprigs, and red roses. It was probably a hand made bouquet, because she didn't know any flower shop that used honeysuckles or lavender in their arrangements. She set it aside in the sink and pointed an accusatory finger at Steve.

"You were swimming! You're not supposed to get your cast wet," she said.

"I wrapped it with plastic," Steve defended, stepping away from her and bumping into Danny.

"Told you she was going to get after you for your quick dip," Danny said.

"Why are you like this? Why can't you follow the doctor's orders for just a few more days?" Kono pleaded.

"I'm going stir crazy being stuck in the house with Oscar the Grouch," Steve jerked a thumb at his partner.

"And Gonzo the Great here has been shifting when you're not looking," Danny held a hand out at him.

Steve glared at him out of the corner of his eye. "Tattletale."

Kono glanced back at Chin with wide eyes. He shrugged. The only thing he had done was taken a stroll to the corner store and gotten winded from his cracked ribs, but he had taken no part in this constant bickering. It was like living with five year olds.

"Okay, okay, you know what? If you want to shift and re-break your wrist and open those bite marks again, go ahead, I'm not going to stop you," Kono said. She held up a finger when Steve opened his mouth. "But, I'm not going to call the doc at the hospital when you do. I'm going to call Mauna, and if she has to come over here to take care of your stubborn a–" she looked at Grace and switched terms "–butt with her busted shoulder, I'm not going to hang around to watch the fireworks."

Danny put his hands up in surrender. "No shifting, Mother Kono. Got it. I'm going to relax on the couch with my favorite Monkey."

"Guess what," Grace said as she helped him turn and hobble toward the living room.

"What?"

"Draco and the Lass's new song is on YouTube. You've gotta listen to it!"

They heard him dramatically groan. Kono grinned briefly and then scowled at Steve. "How about you, Boss? No more shifting unless you want a pissed off Mauna tending to you?"

"Yeah, okay, no more shifting," Steve agreed. He fled back through the lanai door.

"Think he's actually going to listen to me?" she asked her cousin.

"Do _you_ think he's going to?" Chin asked.

Kono blew out a breath, looking upward in frustration and then following the biggest troublemaker out into the backyard. Chin smirked. He flexed his fingers, glittering bronze scales covering his skin for a moment before retreating back into hiding before his cousin could catch sight of them. Reigning in three grown shifters was indeed a troublesome task.

* * *

 **Pfft. Boys. Never listen.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", I rewrite 'Imi Loko Ka 'Uhane', because if you're going to have an episode where there's a TV show host and you finally catch Wo Fat, it's gotta be more exciting than that. Plus, dragons.**

 **Thank you guys for always reviewing! And for all the faves and follows. It means a lot to me. :)**


	61. Fact 55

**I mostly rewrote the entire episode. Sorry to those who liked the original. This stinkin' thing had a mind of its own. It got out of hand.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #55: Some ancient proverbs have long painted dragons as cunning beasts. Occasionally, they're not wrong.**

 **Season: "Imi Loko Ka 'Uhane", Episode 21, Season 3**

The McGarrett family had proved to be a nuisance to him for the better part of several years. In the past, simply eliminating the problem had served him well. However, he had run into multiple issues with these people, first of all being that eliminating one McGarrett simply made another one pop up in his place. And this one had proved to be far worse than the first.

Wo Fat checked his watch calmly. The midafternoon breeze was pleasant as it blew across the grass to the bench where he was perched. In fact, it was the first time in months, possibly even a year, he had had any time to stop and smell the roses, as they say. Though, the only flowers he could spot nearby were monoi.

Steven J. McGarrett had pulled the proverbial rug out from under his feet, dismantling his carefully built empire terrifyingly fast. The Hesse brothers, Governor Jameson, the Yakuza, and every single individual in between that even offered a chance at letting him regain his footing had been promptly removed from the picture by the Five-0 Taskforce.

Oh yes. He had tried to kill Steve unless the man's status of being alive served him to some end, such as the tense and short-lived partnership while evading the Yakuza in the jungle. The man was a cockroach. Impossible to kill. No matter how many times he stepped on him, Steve and his team sprung right back.

Cars slowly rolled by and he scanned every vehicle meticulously. While he had been in power, he had had people to do this sort of task for him. Despite that, he was no stranger to getting his hands dirty. That was how he started and if that was how it was going to end, then so be it. This was possibly his last shot of ending this then getting off Hawaii and rebuilding elsewhere.

Through the years of tracking each other, of trying to kill each other, Wo Fat had learned one thing about Steve. One thing he now realized he should have used much earlier in this drawn out game.

"Oh, Steve," Wo Fat said quietly to himself as the bell rang and the students of the Academy of the Sacred Heart filtered out toward the cars waiting to pick them up. "You have gained far too many soft spots."

* * *

Danny peeked through the blinds of Steve's office. "This is ridiculous."

"She's so nosy," Kono set her hands on her hips with a disgusted shake of her head. "You know, she keeps asking how I manage on a team of all guys. Like, what? I can kick ass just as well as you guys."

"Easy, cuz," Chin soothed. "She's an investigative TV show host, that's her job."

"I can't believe the Governor forced us to do this," Danny scrubbed his hands over his face and then raked them back over his hair. "She got his blessing, but did she get ours? Did any of you give it to her? No? Because this is so stupid. We're in the middle of a homicide case with possible mob ties and we have a camera crew following us around."

"There goes our undercover IDs for the rest of our careers," Kono grumbled.

"What if we get into a firefight with them tagging along behind us, huh?" Danny questioned.

"We won't get into a firefight," Steve said. The arms he held firmly crossed over his chest spoke to his reluctance of having a camera follow them everywhere.

"Are you sure? Have you even met our team?" Danny gestured to the four of them and Kono nodded.

There was a tapping at the glass door. "Commander? Can we finish our interview now?"

Steve exhaled slowly and shared a look with his teammates. Danny smirked. His prickly exterior had deterred the host from bugging him too much, but the cousins hadn't been so lucky and Steve, well, he was the leader of the famed taskforce. He was practically the center of attention.

"I've got some…uh…stuff to do," Kono said and slipped out of the office, quickly brushing by Savannah and her cameraman.

Chin followed suit as did Danny. They broke apart and headed toward their own offices. As much as he wanted to lurk around outside of his partner's office to spy on the interview, his knee was aching and he needed to sit with it propped up for a while. Two weeks of downtime after fighting Jupiter had given them enough time to get back into the offices, but they were nowhere near one hundred percent.

Danny pulled over the chair he kept tucked in the corner, plopped in his swivel chair, and gingerly lifted his leg up onto the second chair. He sighed gratefully as the pressure was taken off his knee. He'd have to go dig his emergency icepack out of the breakroom freezer, that was if he could find it amongst all of Kono's fruity popsicles.

The generic ringtone he used for unknown numbers chimed in his pocket. Wincing as he shifted his hips to get into it, he drew his phone out with two fingers and frowned at the number on the screen. As much as he hated telemarketers, being a cop meant he had to answer his phone just in case it was important.

"Detective Williams," he said.

" _Good afternoon, Detective."_

Danny stiffened. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. Any of them would.

" _I am going to presume you know who you are talking to."_

"Wo Fat," he ground out. He started to kick the other chair away to go get Chin to get a trace.

" _I wouldn't go rushing off to your team so quickly, Detective."_

"And why the hell wouldn't I?" he questioned, one hand going up in a vivid wave.

" _I have no need for threats and games of cat and mouse today. I want to speak with you."_

"Yeah, why?" he asked as an icy cold swept through his chest and gut.

" _I want you to do something for me."_

Danny laughed and stood up. "Well, I hate to break it to you, babe, but I'm not your errand boy."

" _Are you sure about that, Detective? Come here, Grace, say hello to your father."_

Time stopped. His legs went numb. Sweat sprang from the pores on his forehead and trickled down his face. No, no, no, no, no. This couldn't be happening. Not again. The big bad boogieman that he'd tried to protect everyone from had his daughter? Bile burned at the back of his throat. The monster had never shown any interest in any of them except for Steve. For some reason, he had never thought that his precious daughter would ever get tangled up in this nasty web. Until now.

" _Danno? Danno, are you there?"_

He swallowed thickly. "I'm here, Gracie, I'm here. Are you okay? You okay, baby? He didn't hurt you, right?"

" _No. But I'm scared, Dad, I'm scared. He's a bad guy, isn't he?"_

A tear streaked from his eye at the tremor in his daughter's voice. She had called him Dad, something she rarely did. His heart thumped liked a piston in his chest where a heatwave was beginning to grow. An acrid tang became noticeable. "Monkey, can you tell me where you are? Can you describe anything to me?"

" _It's dark. I can't…I can't see anything. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't–"_

"Grace, Monkey, it's okay, honey, it's okay. Do you remember the drive? Did he take you in a car?" he asked.

" _I had a blindfold on and I couldn't see out. But it was a long drive and it was bumpy and then we got on something else and I'm so sorry, Dad, he just…he just grabbed me when I was going to cheer practice and…and…and I'm scared, Dad, please…I'm sorry, I'm sorry…."_

"Grace, listen to me, baby, listen to me, this is not your fault," he assured her. He could definitely taste smoke rising up his throat now. It was bitter and hot from dry stoking. Swallowing and forcing the organ at the base of his ribcage to relax, he tried to keep calm despite his daughter's repeated apologies and the tears he could hear in her voice.

" _No, it's certainly not her fault, Detective. Now, are you ready to talk?"_

Danny dug his fingers through his hair and growled, "What do you want?"

* * *

Her eyes had finally adjusted to the very dim lighting in the room. There wasn't much in the narrow space, not that she could make out at least. There was the shape of a small table and a chair on the far side, a few crates against one metal wall, and what she was sure was a gun. By far the most frightening shape was that of the man sitting in the chair.

Grace rubbed a few tears away with her shoulder. The steady stream wouldn't stop even though her eyes were scratchy and her nose was snotty. She took a few deep breaths. Danno was going to save her. He always saved her. And if he didn't save her, Uncle Steve would. Or Uncle Chin or Aunt Kono. She just knew that no matter what, someone was going to come save her.

But what if they couldn't find her?

She leaned heavily against the cold wall, fidgeting with the handcuffs that secured her to a pole welded between the floor and ceiling. It had been a long drive in the car and then on the smaller thing. A four-wheeler. Why couldn't she come up with that name earlier when she had been talking to Danno? It may have helped. They must be way out in the middle of nowhere. After talking to Danno she had really listened to see if she could hear something that would tell her where she was. Anything.

There was nothing. It was quiet. No cars, no people, no boats. Just the odd bird every once in a while.

What if she was too far for them to find her? This seemed like a much better hiding place than where that bad cop had taken her before. Hot tears began to run down her cheeks again. She furiously scrubbed at them. When was she ever going to run out of tears? There had been no one to see or hear her cry last time. This time, though, there was someone. A bad guy sitting in the corner. A bad guy wanting her Danno to do something for him. Probably nothing good.

She glanced at the faint outline of the man in the chair. He didn't raise his voice or get angry like the bad cop. But, when he was close to her, she got chills. Something about him scared her more than the bad cop.

She had to get out of here.

* * *

Savannah Walker hadn't thought the Five-0 Taskforce was going to be as cagey as they were. Lieutenant Kelly was politely friendly, answering questions more than the others, but refused to give much up about his teammates' personal lives. Officer Kalakaua answered a few questions and then gave her a dirty look when she asked about being on a team of all guys. Lieutenant Commander McGarrett had finally finished the interview with her. And she wasn't sure if she'd actually be able to talk to Detective Williams at any point today.

Savannah perked up when said man appeared from his office and headed straight for the smart table where the other three were looking into their dead man from this morning. That had been exciting, even though they'd been relegated to staying behind the police tape. Since then? Not so much.

"What's up? Knee feeling better, brah?" Kalakaua greeted.

Knee? Savannah wondered if some of the bruises she could see on them were case related. Nothing had been in the news as of late, but she had yet to ask them about job related injuries. Maybe she could ask about the detective's knee. She would literally take any crumb she could get at the moment.

"Yeah, it's peachy," Williams said tersely. He glanced at the camera briefly with a scowl. "I think I'm going to go get something to eat."

McGarrett flipped his wrist around to look at his watch. "You're already hungry? It's only three-thirty."

"I'm sure Kame would love you to bring the cameras back around for a midafternoon snack," Kelly chuckled.

Savannah smirked. The big guy had been charming in a funny way, but she would definitely jump at the chance of having some one on one time with the prickly detective. Maybe she'd actually get somewhere this time.

"Nah," Williams shook his head and placed his hands in his pockets, starting to back away. "I think I'm in the mood for a slice of pineapple pizza."

Holy crap, she almost got whiplash from the sudden mood shift. Or had she imagined it? The two cousins didn't seem too alarmed, but McGarrett's shoulders had pulled back and he was working his jaw like he was clenching his teeth behind his unperturbed exterior. Interesting.

"Oh, and Steve?" Williams turned around on his way out of the door. "I left that report you wanted on the desk in my office."

Williams vanished out the door and McGarrett slipped away from the table in a beeline for his second in command's office. Savannah motioned for her cameraman to follow. They were promptly and purposely halted by Kelly.

"What's going on, Lieutenant? Detective Williams sure seemed in a hurry to go get his pizza," Savannah implored. She could barely see McGarrett reading a paper in Williams' office.

"When Danny gets hungry, we all stay out of his way. Especially if it involves pizza," Kelly said smoothly with a small, false grin.

"Uh huh," she pulled away from him and scurried over to McGarrett as he stepped out of the office. "Commander McGarrett, can you tell us what that was about?"

McGarrett scowled and folded the piece of paper up, sliding it into his pocket before she could glimpse what was on it. "A late report."

"You honestly expect us to believe that? Come on, throw us a bone here," she begged.

"No. Turn that camera off and go wait in my office," he pointed. When they didn't move he barked, "Now!"

* * *

"This is _lolo_ ," Kono commented under her breath while typing rapidly. "Of all the days, he has to show up when we have a nosy reporter and a cameraman following us around."

Steve shot a look at his office, making sure they hadn't sneaked out. Savannah and her cameraman were still inside, but were zeroed in on what they were doing. That was why they weren't projecting anything up onto the hanging monitors, doing everything solely off of the horizontal screen on the smart table so the camera couldn't see any of it.

"This is bold," Chin said.

Steve looked at him.

"Wo Fat is taking a huge risk kidnapping Grace," Chin continued. "He usually sticks to the shadows, tries to evade law enforcement."

"Or he's toying with us. With me," Steve growled and slammed his fists on the table.

"Or we have something he wants," Chin said. He pointed at his pocket. "What did Danny write on there besides 'Wo Fat has Grace'?"

He dug the paper out of his pocket and opened it. "He said to track his phone, that Wo Fat's got him running errands."

"Okay," Kono straightened from her hunched position over the table and combed her fingers through her hair. She hummed.

"What're you thinking, cuz?" Chin asked.

Kono frowned and furrowed her brows. "This makes me think that whatever he wants, he can't get himself."

"So he's using Danny to get it and holding the threat of hurting Grace over his head to make him do it," Steve said. "Wo Fat is a manipulative son of a–"

"Hear me out," Kono held a hand up. She tapped at the table and brought up the location of the GPS of Danny's phone. "I'm thinking that he can't get what he wants because we already have it."

The lightbulb finally lit up. Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "Whatever it is, it's at the crime lab."

"And every person with ties to HPD knows who Wo Fat is," Chin nodded along with his cousin's thinking. "He can't even get close to HPD or the lab."

Steve made up his mind. "I'm going to tag along behind Danny. I'm not making him play Wo Fat's game alone. Chin, Kono, stay here and keep monitoring his GPS and see if you can figure out where that call came from."

"And them?" Chin tipped his head toward his office. "We can't keep them locked up in your office the rest of the afternoon."

He spared Savannah and her cameraman a quick glance. "Just don't let them know who we're tracking or why."

"Steve," Kono called as he jogged toward the door. She gave him a concerned look. "Be careful. We need you and Danny and Grace all back in one piece."

* * *

Danny splashed cool water in his face. A constant dull smolder in his chest had declared itself permanent for the time being on the ride over from the Palace to the crime lab. The cool water helped calm his pounding heart and the coursing heat. He swallowed, thankful when he didn't taste smoke. That's all he would need right now, smoke puffing out of his nose.

He ran his hands over his hair to put it back in place, cast one last look in the mirror, and exited the restroom.

The crime lab was busy. Techs were at almost every station, analyzing evidence for HPD and probably for any ongoing investigations that Five-0 had, including the one they'd gotten turned onto this morning. The man with the missing hands. It was a signature of the mob, but he had his doubts. He'd worked mob cases in Jersey. He'd worked them here once in a blue moon, too. And for some reason, this didn't feel like a mob hit. Something about a shotgun to the face threw it off.

He caught Fong's eye and the tech raised a brow. "Detective, what brings you back so soon? More evidence?"

"No," Danny said, keeping the tremor out of his voice. His hands danced out. "I, uh, actually need to get that key back, the one that was in our victim's personal effects."

"Oh," Fong frowned. "I haven't had a chance to look at it yet. I know McGarrett wanted to see if I could determine what it belonged to."

"We might have a lead on what it opens," he said. More like a tip from a deranged sociopath holding his daughter hostage, but he didn't dare say that to the tech. He only hoped that Steve hadn't already done something stupid with his pineapple pizza distress signal and the note he'd left on his desk.

"Okay, I'll go get it for you," Fong retreated back to where they kept the evidence that was up next for examination.

Danny twitched a finger. "I'm coming, Monkey, just hold on."

* * *

Grace's wrists were raw from pulling at the handcuffs around them. Sweat made her shirt stick to her back. It was humid. Not necessarily hot, but humid. Thankfully, the man had gotten up and cracked open the door to the room, letting in a slice of sunlight and a breeze. The breeze was fresh, but an odd, rotten smell blew in with it occasionally. Green leaves and blades of grass poking through the opening gave her a clue as to where they were. They were in the jungle. Somewhere. Oahu had a lot of jungle. Which meant she couldn't run for help if she escaped, but she could run and hide. It would be like hide and seek. A really, really intense game of hide and seek.

But only if she could get out of these cuffs. Her hands were almost thin enough to slip through them, but not quite. If she had no thumbs she could probably do it. Maybe, if she tucked her thumb in far enough, she could at least get one hand free.

"Come on, come on," she whispered in a barely audible voice.

The constant rubbing of the metal chafed and stung like when she ate it on the concrete when she crashed her bike. Biting her lip, she glanced at the man sitting back in the corner looking at something on the table. It was now or never.

Cautiously, she shifted a patch of auburn and gold scales out on her wrists and hands. Though not as thick as Danno's scales, they shielded her from the harsh metal and provided some relief. Only problem was they added a little bit of width. What did Danno call that? A no-win situation? Why couldn't she have the other one? A win-win situation? She wins, Danno wins, and the bad guy loses.

"Interesting."

Grace fell backwards off her haunches. Her heart went up into her throat. She hadn't even heard the man get up from the chair and walk over. He was a ninja, an evil ninja.

He crouched down and grasped one her hands. She gasped. Her scales. No, no, no, no, no. Concentrating and trying to remember what Uncle Steve had taught her, she retracted the small diamond shapes back into her skin successfully.

The chunk of sunlight from the cracked door glinted on the man's eyes. "I did not know you were a little mixed blood."

Her heart fluttered so hard she expected to see it fly out of her chest.

"Now I am wondering which side of the family it comes from," he said. His voice was clam and even and sent a chill down her spine. "Your mother?"

Don't say anything, don't do anything. Don't cry, don't cower. She was strong like Danno.

He hummed lowly. "However, I have a feeling it's your father. I knew a dragon was involved in rescuing Steve from North Korea. I had thought it was a member of his SEAL team."

She gulped. She had no clue what he was talking about, hadn't heard this story. It must have been one of the ones Danno didn't like talking about. And if Uncle Steve had to be rescued from this man before, that meant they knew who he was. Hopefully that meant they could find him faster.

"I know Steve is a dragon, but I never paid close enough attention to Daniel," he said. "I suppose it doesn't matter either way."

Her frown deepened. She knew she shouldn't talk, but she had something to say to him. "Danno and Uncle Steve are going to find you and throw you in jail."

A smirk crept across the man's face. He reached toward her, the sliver of sunlight shining across iridescent green scales on his forearm that rippled in different shades in the light. Short, hooked claws curled in front of her nose. Oh no. That wasn't good. Her eyes darted from the claws to his eyes where a clear eyelid slid across when he blinked.

"I am sure they would love nothing more than to throw me in jail. But I am going to be honest with you, Grace."

She trembled slightly.

"I intend on killing your uncle and your father."

* * *

Savannah could smell something fishy from a mile away as soon as McGarrett had ditched them. She was treated to silence once they were released from the office. The silence and vaguely answered questions gave her time to really analyze what was on their smart table, though. Tracking information. Cellphone triangulation algorithms. And a criminal profile.

"Who's Wo Fat?" she asked.

Kelly swept that particular file off the screen with a simple flick of his fingers. "No one you need to worry about right now."

"Is he a suspect in the homicide investigation?" she asked. "Is that where the Commander and Detective Williams went?"

No answer. There was definitely something fishy going on. As a host, she had accidentally, and occasionally not-so-accidentally, unearthed some drama amongst chefs, doctors, and even racehorse owners once. Only problem is that this time she couldn't tell if the drama and tension present were from personal issues or had to do with the case.

In her experience, it was best to approach something like this from a side angle.

"How long have the Commander and Detective Williams known each other?" she tried, hoping this one would receive an answer.

"Um…about three years?" Kalakaua said, but didn't break eye contact with whatever she was researching on the table.

"I've heard that they're pretty inseparable, joined at the hip almost," she continued. She glanced at her cameraman to make sure he was recording just in case they got something worthwhile.

"They're a good team," Kalakaua nodded. "Loud, but good."

She perked a brow. "Loud? Can you expand on that a little?"

"Uh," Kalakaua looked up at them briefly and then at her cousin.

"They have conflicting ideas about how to go about things sometimes," Kelly supplied.

"And they argue?"

"I think Danny calls it ranting," Kalakaua said. She frowned at the tracking data on the screen.

"Does it ever concern you, having a boss and a second-in-command that don't agree?"

Matching looks of disbelief rose to meet her. Kalakaua was first to respond. "You're never going to find a better boss than Steve and a better friend than Danny."

"When it comes down to it, they have each other's backs and they have our backs. No matter what," Kelly said. He backed away from the table as his phone rang.

Savannah watched Kelly out of the corner of her eye while she asked another question. "Do you stick with your cousin out in the field or do the partnerships get shaken up now and again?"

"For the most part I'm with Chin, but sometimes I work with Steve or Danny," she said. "They all have my back and that's all that counts."

Kelly stepped back up to the table and tucked his phone into his back pocket. "That was Steve."

Kalakaua stiffened. Oh yeah, fishy for sure. They shouldn't be acting this tense. They had been awkward around the camera all morning, but this was a different kind of awkward.

Kelly eyed her and the camera for a second before looking back at his cousin. "Steve's with him on the DL, and told us to hang back. It's too risky to follow."

"What're we supposed to do?" Kalakaua questioned.

"Be ready if he calls," Kelly said ominously.

"Okay, guys, come on. What's going on here?" Savannah set her hands on her hips.

Kelly stared at them and then sighed. "I guess you're going on a ride along. You guys signed the waivers, right?"

* * *

Danny had a gut feeling. It was one of those feelings he had learned he shouldn't ignore or belittle. Call it a cop's instinct or Spidey senses or a heightened awareness, whatever it was let him know this wasn't going to go down okay. When did anything involving Wo Fat ever play out like they planned? Their first full assault on him had been a bust and left Danny with sarin poisoning. Then there had been the kidnapping to North Korea. Then there had been the plane crash and almost execution via Yakuza while Danny had been held captive by the CIA. The man was a cockroach. Impossible to kill.

"If anything happens to Grace, I'm going to hurl myself off a cliff," he muttered and popped another small piece of bismuth into his mouth. It was a gift from Grace from her latest trip to the museum. It helped his stoking chamber settle if there was actually something to melt down.

His abdomen clenched and his fingers curled around the shiny element. Never in a million years had he anticipated his daughter getting involved in this. It had always been Steve vs. Wo Fat. The McGarrett family was the one to royally screw up his empire, not the Williams family.

The Camaro traversed up the jungle road, a road that would have been much easier to navigate in the Silverado. While Wo Fat hadn't explicitly stated he shouldn't tell anyone else what was going on, it was left as a hard suggestion. The Silverado was Steve's and if he was watching at all, he would know that Steve had gotten involved. Which he had anyway.

Pineapple pizza had clearly done its job as had his note. Using ninja skills, his partner had tailed him on this ridiculous scavenger hunt. Once it was made clear that he had to head up into the jungle, Steve communicated he would follow closely.

"When did my life turn into a freaking spy movie?" Danny grunted as he put the car in park near the rock barrier.

He checked the map that he'd found in the locker at the HPD gym. How and why a mysterious map had ended up there, he honestly couldn't bring himself to care. All he cared about right now was getting this thing done and getting his daughter back.

"Danno's coming for you, Grace. Just hang on, Monkey," he said and stepped out of his car.

He had faith that Steve had his back and was somewhere close by. With that small bit of reassurance, he trekked off into the jungle.

* * *

Grace nudged the pole again. It wiggled. Another look around the metal room revealed a few rust holes here and there, but very little light was coming in through them. Leaves might have been covering them. It had to be one of those big container things that the giant ships carried, only this one was old and sitting in the jungle. She remembered Madeline taking them on hikes to some old bunkers for a few Aloha Girls outings. She said people just left stuff out in the jungle after the war. Maybe this container had gotten left out here, too.

The man in the corner sat up straighter.

She swallowed and got to her knees, trying to figure out what he was looking at. It must have been a phone. He had several phones and used a different one each time he called Danno. This one wasn't a cheap flip phone like the others, though. It had a touch screen that he was staring at intently.

He stood up. She pressed back against the wall. His footsteps hardly made a sound as he walked toward her. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes again. The man scared her, truly and honestly terrified her with how calm he was, with dragon scales she'd never seen the like of, and with his threat. No false promises to her, he didn't lie to her. And she believed him when he said he was going to kill Danno and Uncle Steve.

"I'll have to be going now, Grace," he crouched beside her and pulled the neckerchief around her neck up around her mouth. "I don't know if anyone will find you up here."

With that dark statement, he slipped out of the door and left her alone.

The tears began to flow freely. She sniffled and buried her face into her knees. He was going to go kill her dad and uncle and leave her up here to die. She listened to the drip of tears running off her nose, making small rosettes on the metal floor as they dropped. A soft breeze rustled the leaves against the outside walls, bringing in that odd, rotten smell again. It was quiet.

Super quiet.

Grace blinked. She hadn't heard the four-wheeler start or drive off. The man must not be going far. But he had made it sound like he wasn't coming back. It had been a long drive up to the container, so she couldn't imagine him walking all that way out of the jungle.

She gasped. What if the map thing he had talked to Danno about led to somewhere close by? Her brows furrowed. If that was true, then why hadn't the man just gotten whatever the map pointed to. Why make Danno do it? Especially if it was so close? Unless….

"Oh no. Danno, no, no, no," she jerked the cuffs. The pole shuddered. She sat back on her butt and kicked at it. She had to warn her Danno.

* * *

Every hair raised on Danny's arms. The quiet jungle was more intimidating today than usual. The hum of the insects and the sticky humidity were something he was growing accustomed to, but the nature of his visit to the jungle was what was setting him on edge.

He checked the map once again as he crested a slight hill. Two large trees with a rotting log to the left of them were directly ahead. Of course, there were trees everywhere, because it was a fricking jungle. He only knew it was these two trees because they were sort of out by themselves in a small clearing.

Feeling very open and exposed, he approached the log and examined the ground around it. He had no clue what he was going to be digging for. It could be a bomb for all he knew. An explosion that would send shrapnel into his face like Laura Hills. It seemed to be a favorite of Wo Fat's, because the team all knew what he did to his pawns or people who threatened his business, and Danny knew he was just a pawn in all of this. He wouldn't even be playing this ridiculous game if it wasn't for his daughter.

A patch of freshly churned dirt at one end of the log drew his attention. He kneeled by it and touched his fingers to it. It was loose and soft, like someone had recently dug something up or buried something. A claymore mine could very well be hiding a few inches under the surface.

Danny exhaled heavily and made peace with it. His love for Grace was stronger than his self-preservation, and if this ended with his body getting scattered around the clearing, then he trusted his team to find his daughter and be there for her.

He scooped a handful of dirt away. And another. And another. Scoop by scoop, he dug into the ground slowly, waiting for the moment when he hit a trigger and it was lights out.

"Danno!"

His heart skipped a beat. He swung his head up. "Grace?"

"Danno!"

That was his daughter. He wasn't imagining it. Springing to his feet, he glanced around the clearing and surrounding trees. "Grace!"

"Danno, it's a trap!"

He spotted her running like a bat out of hell through the trees. He ran toward her. She crashed into him with tears streaming down her face.

"Oh my god, Grace, are you okay? How'd you get away? Why are you out here?" he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close.

She struggled out of his embrace. "Danno, it's a trap. The bad guy's out here and he said he's going to kill you and Uncle Steve!"

 _Crack!_

Grace and Danny both yelped for different reasons. Grace yelped because the sound of the rifle startled her, and Danny yelped because the bullet from the rifle hit him.

"Danno, you're bleeding," she said.

Danny ignored the graze to his bicep, the right one for a change, and grabbed his daughter. He ran for the trees and threw them down behind a fallen one with a huge girth.

"Are you okay, Monkey?" he panted, now feeling the sting from the wound.

She nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. They widened at something past his shoulder.

Danny jumped as a dragon dropped out of the trees, and then immediately felt a wave of relief. "Steve, you've got to get Grace out of here."

Steve placed a webbed front foot on Grace's head and smirked. "You escape by yourself?"

"Yeah."

Another crack from the rifle had them all crouching in the underbrush behind the fallen tree again. Grace shook like a leaf and held onto Danny for dear life as best she could with handcuffs still around her wrists.

"Danny, you get her out of here and I'll handle Wo Fat," Steve ordered.

Danny looked between his partner and his daughter. It was one of the hardest decisions to ask him to make, but he knew which one he had to choose. "Be careful, Super SEAL."

Grace shook her head. "But–"

"Come on, Uncle Steve can handle himself," Danny gathered his feet under him.

"On my count," Steve's shoulder and thigh muscles tensed. "One…."

"But Danno–"

"It's okay, baby, I've got you."

"Two…."

"No, you don't understand–"

"Three!"

Danny pulled Grace up with him as Steve lunged over the fallen tree in the direction of the shots. He forced himself not to look back at another crack. Grace was the number one priority right now. As soon as they were back at the Camaro he was calling Chin for backup.

A flicker of silver through the trees made him giddy despite the ache in his knee. Almost there, almost there.

Once they were there, he yanked the passenger door open and had Grace sit in the seat so he could look her over. Besides sweat on her face and a little mud on her legs, she didn't look too bad. Only scared.

"I'm going to get these off you, okay?" he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a key. It fit easily into the locking mechanism and popped the cuffs of his daughter's wrists. That was the great thing about handcuffs: most were opened by a universal key.

"Danno, you can't leave Uncle Steve up there by himself," she said, rubbing her raw wrists.

Danny held her hand as he dialed his phone. "Don't worry. I won't. I'm going to call Uncle Chin for backup and once someone's here to stay with you, I'm going to go back and help Uncle Steve, okay?"

Grace shook her head emphatically. "No. You have to go help him _now_."

"Monkey–"

"Danno," Grace grabbed his hand with both of hers and looked him dead in the eye. "The bad guy's a dragon, too."

* * *

Chin was uneasy loitering at the turn off Danny had taken. They were taking an incredibly risky bet by guessing Wo Fat didn't have enough resources to have eyes everywhere like he used to. Steve had let them know where they were headed and told him how something felt off about the location. Its secluded nature would lend itself too well to a trap.

Thus why Chin and Kono had loaded up in the Traverse and the Cruze. They'd passed the Silverado further down the road on the way up. He assumed Steve had stealthily snuck through the trees in silent pursuit of his partner, as unseen backup for whatever Wo Fat had planned.

"Can you tell us anything about why we're off the beaten path and why we're not doing anything?" Savannah asked. "Are we on a stakeout?"

Chin massaged his forehead. This was why they had taken separate cars. He was in charge of keeping Savannah and her cameraman wrangled, which was okay. Not being a full blooded dragon meant that his cracked ribs and bitemarks were taking more time to heal. He had been cleared for desk duty and light field work only a few days ago, so he was better suited to keep careful watch over the host while Kono stayed prepared as the backup.

"Lieutenant?"

"No, we're not on a stakeout," he finally answered.

"Does this have to do with the man found in the alleyway this morning? Or why the Commander and Detective Williams disappeared two hours ago?" she asked.

Chin wasn't a vengeful man usually, but he was considering getting back at the Governor for allowing a talk show host to follow them around. "It might have something to do with the victim. We're not entirely sure yet."

"Are you going to say anything more about this case?"

"Nope."

Savannah frowned. Chin could see the wheels turning in her head, searching for another question to ask, for another angle to exploit. She was as bad as a reporter, another type of person the team didn't like to bother with.

"How did your team get turned onto the breeding operation?"

One brow arched up. "The operation we broke up a couple months ago?"

"The one with the dragons being held captive on the two ships. How did you guys even know where to start looking, or that this operation existed at all? What tipped the team off?" she pressed.

One of their own getting kidnapped for breeding purposes. But he didn't say that. Couldn't say that. He was saved from answering at all by a phone call.

"Kelly," he answered sharply. He knew who it was from caller ID, however, he didn't want Savannah eavesdropping even though it appeared like she was trying to overhear anyway. He didn't quite stop the surprise from etching itself on his face. "What? Yeah, brah, we're about seven or eight minutes out. Hold tight."

"Who was that?"

Chin started the car and shot off the main road up the dirt road. Kono in her red Cruze leapt after him like a rabbit with a fire under its tail.

"Lieutenant, what's going on?" Savannah held onto the dashboard as the Traverse bounced up the poorly maintained road.

 _Nothing_ _good_ , Chin thought grimly.

* * *

Danny would never leave his daughter by herself anywhere, but she was adamant that he had to go help Uncle Steve. Whatever she had seen had been enough to make her think that her uncle, someone she thought was invincible, couldn't handle Wo Fat by himself. He growled as he ran back up the trail. If he got his hands on him he was going to kill him for scaring his baby so bad.

He crested the slight hill in a bound. The shape of Steve slinking through the underbrush to his right gave him the confirmation he needed that the sudden cease in gunfire hadn't been because his partner was dead. Hopefully, it was Wo Fat who was dead.

He drew his gun anyway, wincing as his bicep pulled.

Steve glanced over his shoulder at him. Danny pointed two fingers at his eyes and held his hand palm up in a question. Steve shook his head and shrugged one shoulder. He didn't have eyes on Wo Fat.

Danny threaded through the ferns and grass clumps over to his partner. "Steve, Grace said he's got scales."

The fin on the back of Steve's neck flared. "What?"

"He could be full blooded. Grace didn't know for sure," he relayed. "I called Chin. He and Kono are seven minutes out."

A leaf fluttered in front of their faces. Simultaneously, they looked up at the tree canopy where a few more leaves were raining down on them. The faintest glint of sunlight on scales was their only warning before something bigger than a leaf came barreling at them.

Steve took the brunt of the attack. Danny rolled out of the way of a sweeping tail and got into a crouched position just as Steve kicked the other dragon off him.

"I didn't intend on the little one escaping."

That was for sure Wo Fat's voice coming from the mouth of the Serpent. A pure blooded Serpent by the looks of him, too. Danny only had a split second to take him in before he launched another lightning fast assault. About Steve's height, but nearly twice his length, he was covered in iridescent green scales that undulated to mimic the surrounding colors of the jungle. Long, narrow face, sweeping whiskers, branched horns, short legs, a finned crest running from his forehead to his hips. He was definitely a nearly pure blooded Serpent.

Danny sighted him in and took a shot. The quick snake like movements of his curved neck moved his head just in time, making the bullet take a chip off one horn instead of going through his skull.

Wo Fat lashed a freakishly long tail around and snapped him in the ribs, producing a crack like a whip. Steve snarled and bit at his neck, missing by a hair's breadth.

Finally getting his breath back from the insanely quick hit, Danny didn't have time to dwell on the intense stinging on his side or the blood oozing down his torso. His mind was focused on finding his gun. He could barely see the muzzle under a fern frond.

A five toed front foot closed around it. Wo Fat chucked it way out into the trees where it was useless. The Serpent had wound his lower half around Steve in a crushing hold like a python and had his upper half on the ground snaking toward Danny.

"Grace seemed convinced you were going to throw me in jail," Wo Fat said, baring large hypodermic fangs. "I assured her otherwise."

Danny scaled up along his shoulder and back. The impact was solid, but he didn't feel the teeth penetrate. Surprise flashed across Wo Fat's face. It was there for a nanosecond before he turned to lunge at Steve's throat.

Steve jammed one front foot into the corner of his mouth at the same time Danny grabbed his backup from his ankle holster. He fired two rounds, pleased when one pierced the fin along Wo Fat's back and the other tore a seven inch path up his back to his shoulder blade.

In the blink of an eye, the Serpent had whipped around again and shoved Danny to the ground with a slender front foot. His abused ribs strained under the weight of him, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. He raised his arms up protectively and caught his lower and upper jaws with scaly hands and claws.

Steve sunk his teeth into one of his antler like horns and yanked him off.

Danny coughed harshly and sucked in a breath as the fight moved further away. Getting pounded by Jupiter two weeks ago was doing him no favors right now.

"Last time I do undercover work," he growled quietly while pushing himself to his feet.

A sapling tree cracked as the two seven and a half foot tall dragons tussled. As Danny watched, Wo Fat constricted around Steve again, his flexible ribcage bending unlike other dragons' ribcages could, and he used both front feet to pin his partner's head to the ground.

"Steve!" Danny rushed forward, already doing something he wasn't comfortable doing.

Wo Fat's bite to Steve's jugular fell short as almost foot long claws caught him around the neck. Danny had always prided himself on being a quick shifter, and today it probably saved his partner's life. He dragged the Serpent off enough that Steve was able to maneuver himself the rest of the way out of his grasp.

Despite his hold on him, Wo Fat slithered through his claws like a wet fish and snaked away, turning sideways and arching his back. Dark eyes flitted from Steve to Danny and this time Danny knew he saw surprise on his face.

"Well, I must say that a Cliff is the last thing I expected to see today," Wo Fat commented.

Danny fanned out his wings aggressively. The way he was looking so intently at the pair of them was unnerving. It was an analytical look. They knew from experience that he didn't often act impulsively, everything was usually precise. Every plan, every murder, every fight.

This was no different.

Wo Fat came at them fast and hard. He was difficult to hit. One moment he'd be nearly on top of Danny, but as soon as he would turn to bite him or grab him, he was already out of reach and grappling with Steve, who seemed to have a better grasp on how to handle a Serpent.

The police trained their officers to deal with dragons as best as they could. Unfortunately, it was a near impossible feat to learn how deal with every type. Arboreals, Amphibians, and Drakes were the three big ones they were trained to subdue or defend against. The only things that prepared ones for the other three were reading and field work. Danny spared a moment to wonder if Steve had come face-to-face with a Serpent before.

Following his partner's lead, he aimed for his flank. His strike was true and he managed to knock him to the ground, but Wo Fat bolted upright as fast as he went down.

Danny backpedaled and jerked his head to the side as teeth filled his vision. Bottom fangs scraped along the softer hide on his face. He reared back on his hindlegs and swatted at the large tangle of sinewy muscle coiling around him. One wing bent awkwardly in its socket. Intending on squishing him, Danny slammed into a tree and cracked several low lying limbs off. The brief slackness of the Serpent gave his partner enough time to move in.

Steve snapped his teeth on one of his legs. There was a hiss and Danny cursed as Wo Fat wrapped around his recently injured leg, pulling and completely flipping him onto his side. Somewhere through the tangle of limbs and scales, Wo Fat turned and launched himself at Steve again with bared fangs.

Danny snorted and rolled onto his stomach. Wo Fat was herding Steve away from him, trying to put some space between them. His knee screamed in protest as he got back to his feet. Gingerly keeping it up off the ground, panting heavily, he glanced over his shoulder. They needed backup. Now.

His partner cried out as they went tumbling through the grass.

"Steve!" Danny yelled.

Steve sprang back up and shook his head before proceeding to chase Wo Fat through the trees. Where was he going now? He was heading down, down towards the…Camaro?

Danny's eyes widened.

Grace.

He looked around frantically. The scent of sap from broken tree limbs filled his nose. Sap. Trees. Wood. His eyes narrowed. Wood.

Steve charged through the underbrush after Wo Fat despite the blow to his wrist, the one that he had just gotten the cast off of a few days prior. He didn't think it was broken again, only hurting. Multiple scratches, bruises, and what he hoped were dry bites stung all over. But he pushed through the pain and leapt at his quarry with outstretched claws. They slipped and slid across the ridiculously smooth scales, and then finally hooked into his hide.

Wo Fat arched around so fast that Steve barely avoided the bite to the head. Stay away from the fangs. Teeth latched onto one horn and pulled his head down low enough for the short but deadly claws to scratch at his face. He snaked around his chest, pinning one front leg. Steve hopped forward and rammed into a tree, trying to keep the slender body pinned. He continued to coil and slide around his shoulders until the weight of a full grown dragon was on him and his one front leg, the one with the fractured wrist, couldn't bear it anymore. He fell to the ground.

The teeth let go of his horn and hot breath washed over his ear. "I'm rather disappointed. You usually have more fight in you."

Steve flicked his head up and heard the molars in the back of Wo Fat's mouth clack together. His teeth punctured the smooth green scales at the base of his neck as the Serpent attempted to do the same, but Steve used his free front foot to keep the nasty fangs at bay.

And that's when he smelled it. Smoke. He dug his foot into Wo Fat's throat and pushed him away.

A column of ash and flames erupted and engulfed them. Wo Fat screeched. Steve coughed as he unwrapped himself from him and ran. His eyes watered. Sliding the nictitating membrane over them provided some relief, but he could only make out a fleeing silhouette.

"Steve, are you okay? Steve?"

He struggled to his feet and glanced at his partner. "Come on."

They both followed the trail of smoke and scent of burned hide and scales. Danny wasn't sure if he'd hit him directly or just singed his whiskers. Ashes and embers had clouded his line of sight and all he had tried to do was not hit Steve. He definitely didn't want to burn him. It had only been sixth months since the Wyvern had tried to torch him.

A pained grunt and moan came from a streambed cutting through the ground. They went that way.

Steve carefully stepped down the steep embankment and stood stock still. Danny stayed up above, knowing his knee wouldn't allow him to go down, too. He could see perfectly fine from up here. He _had_ hit him. Wo Fat lay in the water on his side, breathing harshly. The flesh on part of his face, neck, and shoulder was devoid of scales and already blistering.

"Finish it," he hissed.

Danny looked at Steve. He couldn't read the look on his face, which was slightly frightening.

"Finish it!"

He waited. The man of many words that had something to say about everything didn't say a single one. He waited on his partner. Steve had killed armed assailants before. Killing wasn't a new concept. Killing an unarmed man in excruciating pain? There wasn't something right about it, but he would understand if he did. This was the man behind the destruction of his family. Danny was ready to kill him for kidnapping Grace, but he knew it wasn't his call to make. It was Steve's.

His partner grumbled and crawled back up the embankment, leaving Wo Fat to groan in frustration and agony.

"Steve?" he asked. He limped after him.

"Let's go check on Grace. He's not going anywhere," Steve muttered. He trudged off.

"You okay?"

"Fine."

"Hey," Danny gritted his teeth and tried to limp faster through the underbrush to catch up to him. "Are you seriously going to just brush me off now? This is a huge deal, okay? The man that's been tormenting you for years and kidnapped my daughter is either going to die or go to jail now. Show some kind of emotion on your face, huh?"

Steve grunted an acknowledgement.

Danny frowned. "Steve–"

"I'm fine, Danny, I'm fine," Steve insisted.

Danny knew he was most definitely not fine when he took two steps forward and collapsed.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", assured mutual destruction has always been the end game for Wo Fat. If he dies, then he's taking Steve with him.**

 **Yeah, I didn't actually intend for it to have a second part. I already had an ending planned out that was more in line with the actual episode, but then an opportunity for a chapter I was going to write later anyway presented itself...**

 **Also, after next week's post, I'm taking a two week hiatus and will resume posting on July 10th. I'll be traveling and need some time to write and edit chapters for you guys because I'm assuming you don't want to read 200 word drivel. Don't worry, I've already got the first chapter of Season 4 in the works and have quite a few others planned.**

 **Thank you everybody for your continued support! I'm 325 words away from cracking 200,000 words! What a feat. Thank you for reading, following, faving, and of course, the fan to an author's creative flames, reviewing. :)**


	62. Fact 55 Part II

**Important reminder at the end of the chapter.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #55: Some ancient proverbs have long painted dragons as cunning beasts. Occasionally, they're not wrong.**

 **Season: "Imi Loko Ka 'Uhane", Episode 21, Season 3**

 **Part II**

The road up to wherever they were headed reminded Savannah of the time she had gone Jeep crawling with a professional during a festival in Moab, Utah. She was surprised the Traverse was able to make it over the deep ruts and puddles okay, but was even more surprised the little red Cruze behind them was able to keep up despite being much lower to the ground.

Kelly threw the car into park and leapt out.

"Come on, come on," Savannah urged her cameraman out.

A Camaro was parked up ahead. The Detective's Camaro if she wasn't mistaken. She knew it, they _had_ been following him and she was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of this.

"Officer Kalakaua, can you tell us why Detective Williams is up here in jungle and why we've been tracking him for the last few hours?" she moved to intercept the young and lanky officer.

Kalakaua gave her a look that could peel paint and pushed by, heading straight for the Camaro.

Savannah huffed unhappily. She really hadn't anticipated the Five-0 Taskforce being this uncooperative, so she faced the camera instead. "We're here in a forgotten section of the deep jungle located somewhere near the base of the Ko'olau mountains. It is unknown why we tracked Detective Williams all the way up here or what exactly is going on, but–"

"Savannah, look," her cameraman nodded behind her.

She turned and was overcome with a second wave of confusion. Kalakaua was crouched down with a young girl held securely in her arms, and it appeared they knew each other since she thought she heard the young girl call her 'Auntie Kono'.

Savannah crept closer. "Hello, sweetie, what's your name?"

Kalakaua straightened and hid the girl behind her while Kelly approached with squared shoulders. He clamped his hand over the camera, tilting it downward while giving her a stony face.

"No cameras now. Understood?" he said evenly with an edge behind it.

She waved her hand at her cameraman. He lowered the camera and powered it off, snapping the lens cover back on it. Being nosy was her job, and she'd interviewed kids before and had them on her show, but only with parental consent. Even she had to draw the line in the sand somewhere.

"Lieutenant, who is this? Is she okay?" she asked softly, leaving her mic at her side.

"I need you to stay here with Uncle Chin, okay?" Kalakaua murmured to the young girl.

The girl scrubbed a raw and bruised looking wrist across her face. "You've gotta go help Danno."

"I will, I will," Kalakaua kissed her forehead before bolting up a thin dirt path into the trees.

Savannah glanced at the little girl and then at Kelly. "Is this Detective Williams' daughter?"

Kelly sighed. He shot a look at the camera to make sure it was off. "This is Grace, and if her name or face pops up anywhere on your show or in the newspaper, I'd start looking for a new job."

* * *

Danny hobbled over to Steve, the crest on the back of his neck flaring into a rigid and spiky display in alarm. "Steve, hey, what's wrong?"

Steve's legs twitched as he lifted his head up. "Dunno. Jus' sorta went numb for a sec. Mm fine. Help me up."

He cursed under his breath. Steve was slurring his words a little. Placing his claws on his shoulder to keep him from struggling up, he looked him in the eye. "Steven. What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," Steve insisted like the stubborn bonehead he was.

Danny knew it wasn't nothing, because even tired and injured, Steve should have been able to shove his claws off of him and at least stumble to his feet. As it was, he could feel how weak and shaky he was. His brow ridges furrowed.

"Steven," he said again.

Steve's wandering dark blue eye swiveled to lock onto his, the clear nictitating membrane sliding across it slowly. Danny exhaled a puff of smoke. He knew it. There was fear in that eye. His partner knew what was going on and was refusing to tell him.

Suddenly, Steve found the strength to get at least his front feet under him so he was upright when he vomited. His legs shook with the effort and he collapsed back onto the ground.

"What the hell?" Danny sat back on his haunches, keeping his throbbing leg out at an angle, and really looked at his partner.

Heavy breathing, twitching muscles, glassy eyes, vomiting, and was he…was he drooling? His eyes went wide. It was just like when he'd been bitten by the Amazonian Tree Whip snake. He turned his attention to all the nicks and scratches on Steve's body, searching for what he feared was the cause of this.

There was the snap of a twig to their left.

"Danny?"

"Kono," he said in relief.

She ran the rest of the way over to them with her gun drawn, slowing as she caught sight of Steve splayed out in the underbrush. "What happened?"

"I think Wo Fat bit him. He did, didn't he, Steve?" Danny snapped, his anger and anxiety warring after an already stressful day.

At the mention of his name, Steve looked blankly at him. "Wo Fat?"

Kono shared a worried look with Danny. "I'll call EMS."

"No," Steve blinked and there was more awareness in his eyes this time. He sat up partially, long tongue flickering listlessly between his teeth with strings of saliva dripping off his chin. "Need…need Mauna. No antivenin at the hospital."

"What's her number?" Kono asked.

Danny rattled off the number he had committed to memory just in case something like this happened. Kono stepped away a few yards to talk, leaving the two partners alone. Steve clasped one front foot around Danny's claws as he fell back onto his side.

"Easy, buddy, Mauna will be on her way and chewing you out in no time," he soothed. His heart clenched when Steve jerked violently and tightened his hold on him. "Steve?"

Saliva was starting to foam at the corners of his mouth and snot bubbles popped at the end of his nose. "Sorta…sorta scared, Danno."

"It's okay, I'm right here with you. I'm not going to leave you, okay? Huh?" he promised. "You hear me, Steven?"

"Yeah…hear you," Steve said. He lifted his head slightly, heaving and choking on the little vomit that came up.

Kono came back over. "Where's Wo Fat?"

Danny tilted his head toward the streambed. "Over there. The schmuck was pretty burned, but alive when we left him."

"Yeah, he's still here," Kono said into the phone. She covered the mouthpiece again and asked, "How long ago did he get bit?"

He didn't know. "Hey, when did you get bit?"

Steve didn't respond.

Danny flipped his claws over so he was grasping his foot instead of the other way around. He lightly shook his leg. "Earth to Steven, open your eyes, okay? Hey? When did you get bit, buddy?"

"Today," Steve muttered.

Danny snorted in exasperation. He had to have gotten bit during the fight, and that had only started a little over ten minutes ago. There was one point when Steve had chased Wo Fat and Danny lost sight of them while he was wolfing wood down into his stoking chamber, but he'd bet it was when Wo Fat tackled him to the ground the second time right before that.

"About six or seven minutes ago," he guessed.

Kono relayed as much and said to Danny, "She says to keep him from moving too much to slow down the spread of the venom. It'll be twentyish minutes until she gets here."

"What is she driving, a rocket?" Danny quipped to himself as Kono walked away to finish the call.

Steve's head flew upright again, eyes wide and confused. "Where's Grace?"

"She's with Chin, okay? She's fine, you stopped Wo Fat from getting to her," he assured him. He did not like how out of it his partner looked.

"Wo Fat?" Steve barked. He tried to get his feet under him again.

"No, no, Steve, stay down. Stop moving," he reached for his shoulder to push him back to the ground.

Steve snarled and lunged at him with his mouth wide open. Fortunately, he was moving sluggishly and the strike was easy to dodge. Danny pitched sideways in his awkward sitting position, yelping as Steve used his bad knee as leverage to stand up.

He swept his tail around and took his partner's feet right out from under him, quickly maneuvered his weight from the ground to on top of him to keep him from getting up again, and sat there panting while keeping a futilely struggling Steve under his front feet with one hind leg immobilizing his partner's hind legs.

"Mauna said to keep him still so the venom doesn't move faster," Kono said as she stepped back into the ring of squashed undergrowth.

"Tell that to him," Danny grunted, two claws lifting up to gesture in a loose mimic of his hand articulations.

"Danno," Steve whined lowly like a dog.

He shook his head at the abrupt change in mood. "I'm right here, buddy."

"Why're you on top of me?" Steve asked. His eyes opened in a much clearer state again.

"Because, you're an animal that won't stay still and you just tried to take a chunk out of me," he explained.

"I did?" Steve questioned.

"Yeah, brah," Kono crouched in front of his face. She grinned gently as he looked at her. "You need to quit moving. Mauna's going to be here soon."

Steve nodded minutely. Danny slowly got off him, but stayed right there in case his partner's mental status flipped again and he needed to fling himself on top of him.

"Danno, don't…don't leave," Steve glanced around in a panic until Danny leaned into view. "Please."

* * *

Chin kneeled in front of Grace in the open door on the passenger side of the Camaro. Savannah and her cameraman had obediently stayed by the tail of the vehicle and left Grace alone, though he could sense that he probably couldn't keep them staved off for much longer.

"Do you think they're okay?" Grace asked.

He settled a hand on her shoulder. Kono hadn't come back yet, but at the same time there had been no gunshots and no signal that they needed his help. "I'm sure they're fine."

Grace glanced at the two leaning against the bumper and leaned in the whisper to him. "I think the bad guy killed someone."

Chin didn't miss how Savannah perked up at the hushed statement. "Grace, are you sure?"

She nodded. "I kept smelling something funny and when I got out of the box, I think I saw someone on the ground under the plants, but then I saw the trail and just ran so I could find Danno before the bad guy did."

He wouldn't put it past Wo Fat to have killed someone and left their body up here. It could have been some unlucky hiker, a loose end, another pawn in his game, who knew.

"Okay. We'll check it out after we catch the bad guy," he said.

There was a rustling of underbrush behind them. Chin looked up and relaxed his tense shoulders when he realized it was only Kono coming down the thin dirt path. She didn't look worse for wear.

"Danno?" Grace asked hopefully.

"He's fine," Kono assured. She indicated to the trees in front of the Camaro with a head tilt. "Um…we have a situation, though."

Chin furrowed his brows. He told Grace to stay in the seat and followed his cousin away from the all too nosy host, until they were sure they were well out of earshot.

"What's going on, cuz?" he asked.

Kono made a face and ruffled her fingers through her hair. "Turns out, Wo Fat's a Serpent, and he bit Steve."

He rubbed his hand over his face. Growing up in a dragon blooded family had taught him about the types and their many variations, how each defended itself, how each Serpent's bite differed from another's.

"How is he?"

"Not good. I called Mauna," Kono said. She frowned at the host watching them carefully from the car. "Danny's with him, but they're both in dragon form up there."

Chin sighed. "So, we really can't let Savannah out of our sight now."

"It's weird," Kono looked up toward the trees where she'd left them. "Seeing the boss like this. He finally catches Wo Fat and the bastard is still hurting him."

"Assured mutual destruction," he said. "That's always been Wo Fat's end game."

* * *

Danny let Steve lean against his shoulder after his latest bout of vomiting. His scales were thick to protect against heat, but despite that he could feel Steve was warmer than normal. Which was bad. At least he hadn't turned aggressive again since Kono had gone back down the trail to update Chin.

"This sucks," Steve muttered miserably.

Danny looked at the strings of drool as they dripped onto the fern fronds and grass underneath them, recalling when he had been the one over salivating. "Welcome to my world."

"Sorry," he said, though at the moment he had nothing to be sorry for. He spasmed and his head jerked up. "Did we really catch him?"

"Wo Fat? Yep. He's laying in a ditch, not going anywhere any time soon. Remember?" he asked. This in and out of awareness thing was nerve wracking. "Hey, you remember that, Steve?"

"Sorta," Steve slurred. His eyes squinted shut and he grit his teeth against each other with a horrid grinding sound. "My head hurts."

"I bet it does, you oaf," he said.

A shudder passed through him. His muscles quivered against Danny, the constant twitching reminding him of a druggy between highs. It was a mentally and physically taxing venom, and he couldn't help but think that it was rather fitting for Wo Fat. He had drained and taxed Steve for years, both mentally and physically. Steve had lost his mom because of him, gone into the military because of him, lost his father because of him, couldn't sleep at night because of him, had been tortured by him, had to take off on a solo mission to Asia almost a year ago just to find him so he could at last find some peace.

Now, the tyrant lay in a streambed with half his face burned off and he was still winning. He was this close to going over there to finish the job for his friend. This close. But he didn't, because he promised he wouldn't leave him by himself.

"Danno?"

"Yes, Steven?" Danny craned his head to the side and down to see a once again cloudy eye.

"Is Grace okay?"

He swallowed thickly and exhaled heavily. "Yeah, she's good. She escaped by herself, probably saved our lives. My baby is growing into a mini Super SEAL, God help me."

Steve cracked a smirk. "Grace is awesome."

"Yeah. Yeah, she is."

* * *

Savannah turned her head toward the engine sounds of a compact Jeep crawling up the rutty road toward them. She glanced at Kelly and Kalakaua over her shoulder, then flicked her fingers at her cameraman. He lifted the camera to his shoulder and popped off the lens cap.

"What did I just tell you?"

She shot a glare at Kelly's raised voice. The cameraman dropped the camera again and pointed at his pocket with a quirked brow. This is why she stuck with one cameraman on her traveling adventures. He got to know her and she got to know some of his ingenious tricks for getting footage where cameras weren't allowed.

The others were fairly distracted by the arrival of the Jeep and she moseyed over to the newcomers, giving her cameraman enough time to secure a button cam to his overshirt.

"Hi, Savannah Walker with the _Savannah Show_. May I ask who you are?" she introduced herself.

The redheaded woman slid out of the Jeep and matched Savannah's six foot height with pulled back shoulders. Her sharp features and narrowed eyes gave her more intimidation points along with her height. She looked beyond her at Kelly and Kalakaua.

"What did you guys get suckered into?" the woman questioned.

Savannah followed the woman to the back of her Jeep. "The Governor gave me his blessing to do an episode on Hawaii's elite taskforce, to give people an idea of what it's like to tackle big crimes."

The woman curled a lip and swung a duffle bag out of the back of the Jeep. "You may have gotten the Governor's blessing, but you don't have mine. So stay out of my way."

Savannah narrowed her eyes as the woman followed Kalakaua back up the trail. Her teal scrubs were a dead giveaway to where she worked, but why would they need a nurse or doctor? Wouldn't they have called for an ambulance if they needed medical assistance?

"Come on," she motioned for her cameraman to follow her up the trail.

Kelly stopped directly in front of them.

"Lieutenant, I'm an investigator. I want to know what's going on up there," Savannah pointed at the trees behind him. "America wants to know what's going on up there."

"Frankly, it's none of your business, and it's definitely none of America's business," Kelly shot her down.

"Can you at least tell me why you called for a nurse instead of an ambulance?" she asked.

Kelly looked at her cameraman and then back at her. "We have our reasons."

* * *

Danny could've jumped for joy when he finally saw Kono return with Mauna in tow. The constant repeated questions about Grace and where Wo Fat was had his mind running wild with scenarios where this was permanent and his partner had been stripped of his Super SEAL status. Or worse, scenarios where he had to call Mary and Doris and they all stood around a tombstone in the rain.

"Two weeks. I can't even go two weeks without having to deal with you numbskulls," Mauna grouched and dropped her duffle bag in the underbrush next to them. "Alright, McGarrett, let's have a look at you."

"How did you get here so fast, huh?" Danny asked.

Mauna supported Steve's chin in her hand and shined a penlight in his eyes. "I was heading north already, almost to the turn off to get up here when Kono called. Steve, can you breathe? Is it hard to breathe?"

Steve blinked and yanked his head back out of her hands, smacking Danny upside the face with his snout as he did. "Mauna?"

"Oh, that's interesting," Mauna said lowly. She wiped her saliva covered hands on her pants and dug around in her duffle bag, unzipped a lunch pail, and pulled a vial with a dropper out.

"No, not interesting. Scary, and slightly irritating," Danny objected.

Mauna hummed and shifted her weight around on her haunches. "The venom must have neurotoxins in it. What else have you seen?"

"He keeps forgetting that Grace is safe and Wo Fat is done, he tried to bite me, he said his legs were numb when he first collapsed and that his head hurts, he'll spaz out all of the sudden and panic, he's been drooling, vomiting, and shaking, and acting very un-Super SEAL like," Danny listed off, making sure he didn't forget anything. As a cop he knew every detail counted.

"Yeah," Steve confirmed, seemingly snapping back from whatever confused haze he had been in. "Get these clear spots, but they're gettin' shorter and I can't 'member doin' or sayin' the other things."

"Neurotoxicity is a bit of a wild card with dragons. It presents in strange ways," Mauna explained. "On one side of the coin, dragon regeneration abilities stave off most bacteria, viruses, and toxins for a while, on the other side is that when it comes to Serpent venom all that quick healing does is drag it out."

"Drag what out?" Kono asked slowly. The darkness on her face gave away that she already knew.

"Death," Mauna said flatly.

Danny felt his partner tense purposefully at that response, but hid his vulnerability behind his sickly yet stoic exterior. The strain of holding himself up finally won. Steve's toes flexed spasmodically and he sagged against his shoulder, shaking like a leaf.

"I hope you guys know that I can lose my license, my job, and possibly go to prison doing stuff off the clock like this," Mauna said as she stood up.

"As far as I'm concerned, a good Samaritan is helping us," Kono said and shrugged.

"She didn't even give us her name," Danny added, claws dancing out in a gesture. He looked down at his partner. "But you can save him, right? You've got some sort of miracle cocktail in your magic duffle bag, right?"

"I'm not Mary Poppins. I'll do what I can. Shouldn't have given you trouble magnets my personal number," Mauna grunted as she stiffly rolled one shoulder. She bent and grabbed another glass vial out of the duffle bag. "Where's the Serpent?"

Kono walked off at an angle toward the streambed Danny had indicated to earlier. "He's this way."

"You need specific antivenins for Serpent bites, don't you?" Danny asked.

"The more specific, the higher the chance for survival," Mauna said. She followed Kono into the dense grove of trees.

Danny watched them go. A familiar tightening in his chest reminded him his anxiety existed, always waiting there in the shadows, choosing the worse possible times to make itself known. His own muscles were beginning to quake from the adrenaline dump and the day's events were catching up to him quickly. He exhaled a breath cloudy with smoke and ash.

He had no doubt Wo Fat hadn't planned on letting any of them leave the jungle alive today, even Grace. A cold tingle went down his spine. The monster had kidnapped his baby girl, had handcuffed her and locked her up who knows where, he had scared her, maybe even threatened her. He still wasn't one hundred percent sure how she escaped or why she knew it was a trap. Wo Fat must have said something to her that tipped her off, because she was clever. His clever girl.

Acidic tendrils of smoke trailed up his throat as he burned the dregs of the wood off with a slow smoldering anger. He didn't like the thought of burning someone. Burns were some of the worst pain a human, or dragon, could endure. What he had spewed at Wo Fat had been a mixture of embers, ash, tongues of flame, and molten slag. The slag was what did the most damage. He had been chewing on bismuth because of its low melting point since this whole fiasco began. A gift from Grace that came in handy when he was anxious.

Steve jolted. "Hey."

"Hey," Danny greeted gruffly through the hazy smoke caught in his sinuses. He braced himself for the next question.

"Why're we in the jungle?" Steve asked, articulating his words carefully.

He closed his eyes and rubbed one set of massive claws across his snout. "We had a case and got into a bit of a kerfuffle out here, and you, as usual, got hurt."

"A kerfuffle?" Steve tilted his head back with an amused smirk. He frowned. "Got blood on your face."

He touched where Wo Fat had bit and failed to envenomate him on the face. His spiky crest and heavy brows had shielded him from the hypodermic fangs, but the softer hide and smaller scales by his nose and under his eye were less fortunate. He could feel scabs starting to form.

"You're one to talk, babe. You got bit by a Serpent and that makes these look like shaving cuts," he waved his claws between the two of them.

"A Serpent?" Steve's eyes squinted in thought. He dropped his head and leaned against his shoulder again, letting Danny take most of the weight of his uncooperative body. "Got bit by one once."

He arched a brow. "Are you being a smart aleck and talking about the bite you got just now, or have you actually been bitten before?"

"What?"

"You. You've been bitten by a Serpent before, right? That's what you're trying to say," he supplied for him.

"How'd you know that?" Steve questioned without much oomph. "That's classified."

Danny looked heavenward for strength. This short term memory loss was frustrating in the extreme, and yet at the same time every question, every fact, every detail forgotten made his stomach constrict and a knot bobbed in his throat. Seeing Steve wounded was one thing, seeing his mind start to lose its grip was another. It was much more disturbing.

"Hey, Steve? Steve?" Danny turned as Steve shuddered against him, not quite a seizure but more violent than the trembling he'd been doing before. "Damn it. Hold on buddy, okay? You've gotta hold on, understand me? Huh?"

"Type 3 Serpent venom."

He looked up at Kono and Mauna coming back through the underbrush. Mauna was holding up the glass vial which now held a purple liquid in it. Type 3 meant little to him, but so long as the doctor understood it and it helped her save his partner, it was music to his ears.

Steve went slack, back to only the minor trembles. His eyes were closed and his head lolled against Danny's neck, smearing drool and snot everywhere. As a father, Danny had encountered it all and given his partner's situation, he wouldn't rib him about it when this was all over. Maybe.

"I think he had a small seizure. He was talking and having a hard time remembering one second to the next and then he just slumped over and started shaking worse than he had been," Danny said. "He's going downhill, isn't he?"

"Well, you're not wrong," Mauna crouched by her duffle bag again and dug into the lunch pail. She pulled out another vial and a syringe. "You're going to need to hold him still for me, because if he doesn't get the full dose this time I don't have enough antivenin for a second try since he's so big."

Danny secured the leg she pointed to. He held the foreleg on the ground with the inner ankle exposed, hoping Steve didn't start to flail again but ready if he did. Mauna swiftly slid the needle under the smooth, rounded scales into the vein and pressed the plunger. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing Steve didn't even stir.

"Now what?" Kono asked.

"Now, you call the actual EMS while we wait for the antivenin to kick in and give him a chance to shift."

He lifted his claws off his partner's foreleg and sat back with a wince from his own injuries. "Do you carry around antivenin as a regular thing or are you clairvoyant and had a feeling you were going to need it today?"

Mauna sat her butt in the grass. "I'd rather be over prepared than under prepared."

Kono and Danny eyed her.

She held up her hands. "Fine. After you got bit by the Tree Whip, I looked into what antivenins the medical facilities on the island actually stocked. They were sorely lacking."

"And you had the antivenin in your Jeep why?" Kono asked.

"I was taking it up to the North Shore to one of the local doctors so they'd have some on hand just in case," Mauna said. She glanced at Steve and shook her head. "Going to need to get another vial of Type 3 antivenin for them."

"I thought King's and Tripler had Serpent antivenin, you know, for studying and, oh, I don't know, saving lives," Danny said with a vivid gesturing of claws.

"They keep Type 1 and Type 4 in stock because those are the most common ones you'll come across," Mauna explained. She scratched at the back of her neck and cast a look over her shoulder. "But, in case this ever happens again, the university keeps all five antivenins around since the students study the venom in the biology program."

Kono chuckled. "The school is more useful than the hospital, who would've thought."

"Kalawai'a doesn't believe in doing anything half-assed," Mauna added.

The name rang a bell. "Kalawai'a wouldn't happen to teach dragon classes for law enforcement, would she?"

"I take it you've met her before."

"Unfortunately," Danny said, remembering how he and Steve kept getting called out for talking, and how she brutally picked on them for the rest of the day much to the amusement of the HPD officers present.

"Woah, brah, you're bleeding," Kono pointed at his flank.

He craned his head around and noticed the blood seeping from between his scales from where Wo Fat had cracked him with his whip like tail. Injuries sustained in dragon form shifted along with the person into human form, but the reverse was also true. Only now that things were calming down was he recalling he'd been beat up as well.

"That dose will stave off most of the venom's effects. He should go to the hospital for monitoring and fluids once he's coherent enough to shift. And the other guy needs medical attention, now," Mauna grunted as she got up off her rear onto her feet. She turned to Danny. "I think you'll survive until I get the other guy stabilized."

* * *

Several days later, Savannah sat in her hotel room pondering what had happened. The Governor had offered her a do-over to follow the team around when they hopefully weren't in the middle of a homicide or whatever that was. Something else had been going on there. They were acting too weird for there to not have been something going on, especially with the two ambulances passing them on the road as Kelly drove them down.

The piece had turned into more of a behind the scenes look at forensics as Dr. Max Bergman and Charlie Fong had been more talkative and willing to give her a tour of their jobs. They managed to salvage some clips from their time with Five-0, but she hoped round two proved more fruitful.

She scribbled another question in her notebook. This time, she would be ready to take on the secretive team. She hoped to get more than a 'get that camera out of my face'. Unfortunately, the do-over the Governor promised was still a ways out without a set date. No matter. It gave her more time to do her research.

* * *

Steve, now fully in his right mind and recovering from the envenomation, glared at the man in the bed behind the clear window. The room he was in was dragon proof, supposedly. Part of a special area most hospitals had in case they needed to secure dragon patients that were a danger to themselves or others.

Once he had shifted and been hauled off to the hospital and completely filled in on everything, from the other case to Grace's escape to the body in the jungle that had ties to their original murder to his memory loss after he got bit, he had told Danny he didn't care if Wo Fat lived or died. Which was a lie. He did care. A lot. He wanted him dead for killing his father, for causing his mother to flee, for kidnapping Grace, for trying to kill his partner. He wanted him to burn even more than what he already had.

But he wanted answers, too. Closure.

And if Mauna was the attending physician, with her skills and experience, he had a feeling he was going to have that chance. Wo Fat wouldn't slip away from him, not even in death. Not this time.

Steve stalked away from the viewing window. He won. Wo Fat lost. If only it was as simple as that.

* * *

 **July 10th on "Dragons", we move into the beginning of Season 4 with a rockstar that needs protecting after a threat is made on his life.**

 **Remember guys, I'm taking a two week hiatus, so the next chapter won't be posted until July 10th. And just as a check in, I wanted to see what you guys' favorite chapters have been thus far. I know I've asked before, but it was a while ago.**

 **Thanks you all for the continued reading and reviewing, and all the faves and follows, too!**


	63. Fact 56

**I'm baaaack! And welcome to Season 4.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading! Although, all typos are mine.**

* * *

 **Fact #56: Most dragons prefer anonymity, but a few stray into the limelight on purpose.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

Danny worked his jaw and rubbed his ear. The earwig in the other had helped block the screaming fans and blasting music, but little could be done about the ringing in the other one. He was just grateful he was backstage now in a direction the speakers didn't face.

Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"What?" Danny asked at a louder than normal volume.

"I said, aren't you having fun?" Steve repeated.

His hands flitted out. "I'll let you know when my hearing returns. What is it with the Governor lately, huh? Making us do stuff like this. We're a taskforce for high priority crime, not babysitters for show hosts and bands."

"It's just good PR, buddy," Steve said.

"I think it's revenge for every time we crossed a line. He said he wouldn't stand for it, he just didn't specify what the punishment would be," he said, one hand swirling around to encompass the darkened backstage area that absolutely vibrated with the bass.

Steve shook his head and pressed two fingers to his earwig. "See anything from up there, Chin?"

" _Not yet. We've got eyes everywhere, but there are a lot of people here. It'd be really easy for someone to blend in with the crowd."_

"Roger that," Steve dropped his hand.

Danny fixed the cuffs on his suit, shooting a glance at his partner with a small frown. Steve always looked like James Bond when he donned a black suit, right down to the weapons concealed underneath the slick jacket and meticulously ironed pants, even though he protested its ridiculousness in the Hawaiian humidity.

"Why're you in a bowtie?" Danny asked and straightened his own simple black tie.

Steve shrugged. "Couldn't find my regular one."

They stood there as they waited for the concert to wrap up. An online threat made to one of the lead singers' lives, multiple threats in fact, was what had stirred up this whole mess. Of course, it probably should have been HPD providing additional backup to the already tight security, and they were, but Five-0 had been called in simply because of the way they had protected General Pak. They were the team the band wanted watching their backs, and the Governor had happily obliged.

Danny was still sure it was payback.

"Aren't these the guys Grace listens to?" Steve asked.

"Oh, you should have seen her face when she found out I was working security for this concert," Danny grinned. "She about lost her mind, she wanted to come so badly, but Rachel picked this weekend to visit Stan in Las Vegas and so she couldn't."

"Well, you know, you can always buy her a t-shirt."

"And pay a hundred dollars for a shirt I could order off of Amazon for twenty? I have a cop's salary, remember?" he objected and waved him off.

The bassline ceased, the crowd screamed and cheered, and at last, after an extended encore, the band vacated the stage. They both clammed up as the security guards flanking the members behind the curtain nodded at them. Danny took point along with a beefy guard in parting the sea of backstage pass owners while Steve hung back close to the band.

Kids, teenagers, and adults all shouted and reached for them, holding out pens and posters to get signed and trying to take photos on their phones with the band in the background. Despite the occasional complaint of living in Steve's shadow when it came to closing cases, Danny decided right then and there he enjoyed anonymity. He was a nameless short guy in a dark suit that none of the fans cared about, and he'd prefer to keep it that way. He'd have a heart attack if he got swamped like this every time he stepped foot outside his house.

He heard Chin chattering in his earwig, mostly relaying it was clear and confirming that's what the HPD officers with him were seeing. Thus far, Danny had spotted a few creeps, but of the harmless variety. The kind that lived in basements and swooned over young singers, yet had no guts to do anything about that obsession once they were in the light.

The beefy guard beside him paused with his arms held out to physically hold people back. "Sir, we need to keep moving."

Danny pivoted to face the encroaching crowd. He may have been short, but it took a lot to uproot him, and he assisted the guard in keeping them from closing in while the lead singers signed a few autographs. For the most part, the fans were just ecstatic the duo was talking to them and allowing selfies to be taken.

"Sir, we need to move," the guard urged again.

The band started moving forward, Danny and the guard pushing through the crowd once more. All the hands touching and brushing by him were overwhelming, but the end was in sight. He could see the temporary chain link fence that had been erected to keep people away from the band's bus and SUVs. They could get through that, get them to the airport, and off of Hawaii, and then it would no longer be their problem.

"Gun!"

A shot rang out and the crowd screamed, ducking down and scattering.

Danny looked back at his partner with a thundering heart. Steve would be the selfless imbecile to throw himself in front of a bullet for a complete stranger. However, his half-second look told him what he needed to know. The shot had been wild and Steve was already wrestling the gun away from the man.

Relieved his idiot partner was fine and being Super SEAL as usual, Danny took his place next to the lead singers and rushed them passed the fence toward the bus.

It was late. The glow of the city reflected on the undersides of the cloud ceiling in soft whites and ambers, and halos from parking lot lights shined on the asphalt. The interior lights of the bus were already on as were its headlights. Several of the SUVs, some belonging to personal security and others to the HPD, sat waiting with their lights on.

Those lights were not the ones Danny saw. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the flicker of a red dot sharply contrasting on white scales.

"Down!" He yelled and jumped, grabbing the lead singer's slightly branched horn and yanking him to the ground out of the path of the bullet.

The other band members hit the dirt and the guards covered them as another loud report of a rifle firing tore through the air, this one coming from the other direction.

" _Got him on the southeast side in the bed of a white Ford F150."_

"Do you just have eyes on him or did you actually get him?" Danny questioned over the radio.

" _Dead, brah. I don't miss."_

The lead singer lifted his head warily. "That was exciting."

Danny gathered his feet under him and rose upright with his gun at the ready. "Come on, rock star, let's get you on the bus and then you can talk about how exciting this near death experience was."

He led the way onto the bus and did a clean sweep of it first to make sure there were no more surprises. He had a feeling the man backstage and the man in the truck had been working together, and he didn't want to miss a third accomplice.

He holstered his gun. "Clear. My partner and I are going to ride with you to the airport and get you on your plane without any more disasters, alright?"

The band didn't make a fuss and once Steve had climbed aboard, the bus drove away with a police escort. It cruised through Honolulu's traffic at a decent pace toward the international airport. Hopefully, there really was only two people in on the attempted murder and they had no more problems the rest of the night.

"Oy! I think ya 'bout skinned my chin off."

Danny and Steve turned to face the lead singer that had been targeted. He was a peculiar guy in that they didn't know what he looked like as a human. No one did, apparently. He only performed as a fully shifted dragon. Whether that was for aesthetic, the minor altered quality of his voice, to make a statement, or just because he could was anyone's guess. He'd never said definitively one way or the other.

Danny only knew all of this because as of the last few months, _Draco and the Lass_ had become Grace's favorite band.

Draco pointed to the scuffed skin on his chin. "But, ya saved my life, so I'll forgive ya."

He was between Danny and Steve in height, kind of awkwardly proportioned with him being a Drake/Serpent crossbreed. His scales were all white with gold spots on his face, neck, and back, his eyes a brilliant blue, and his smile toothy and goofy. Yeah, Danny could see why young girls fawned over this guy. A dragon with rare colors, a great voice, and a Scottish accent? It was a killer combination if his own daughter was anything to go by.

"So," Draco sat his hind end on the bench seat by Danny, looking utterly screwy in that position, "what's it like bein' a cop in Hawaii? Is it a lotta dumb crimes like people stealin' surfboards an' stuff? Or do ya have a kinda high octane life like that General Pak thing an' tonight?"

"You'd be surprised how many scumbags take up residence here thinking the cops will be too laid back to do anything about them," Danny said. He jerked a thumb at Steve. "They don't realize Rambo himself has made it his personal mission to wipe crime off the island."

"Rambo, eh?" Draco eyed Steve and tilted his head to the side, short whiskers on either side of his snout swaying with the movement. "Looks more like a James Bond."

Steve cracked a smirk and Danny groaned.

A woman came over and leaned on Draco's shoulder. This was the other lead singer, the Lass of the band. Curly burgundy hair with gold highlights almost obscured her eyes and was held at bay by a bandanna and several clips. She smiled brightly.

"How'd ya enjoy the concert?" the Lass was Scottish, too.

Steve held up a thumb and Danny dug a finger in his ear. "It was loud."

She laughed. "Well, live music isn't for everyone."

"No, no, your music's great. I'm just old and can't do this kind of scene anymore," Danny said with a small smile. His hand danced out. "My daughter loves you guys."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. She sings your songs in her bedroom, in the kitchen, in the car, knows every word to every song," he said.

"Bless. Was she at the concert tonight?"

"Unfortunately, her mother chose this weekend to take her to visit her stepfather this weekend in Las Vegas. She was pretty broken up about it," he explained.

Draco huffed. "Poor lass. We're gonna be in Vegas in 'bout two months if she wants to go then."

Danny clasped his hands together with a sigh. "Knowing how Stan's scheduling goes, he probably won't be in Vegas when you're there. She's going to love that I got to talk to you guys."

"Pfft. Did more than talk, ya saved my life," Draco said.

Steve made a tiny gesture with his hands at him. Danny chewed his bottom lip and pulled out his phone. "I hate to be one of _those_ people, but could I, uh, get a picture with you guys to show her?"

Draco smiled broadly and snatched Danny's phone out of his hand. The three of them leaned in close for the ultimate selfie while Steve looked on with a huge grin.

"Oy, Brian, we got any shirts left?" Draco yelled at the rest of the band sitting in the back of the bus.

One of them, the drummer if Danny remembered correctly, sorted through a box on the floor and held one black shirt up. "Only got a large, bro."

"She'd wear a potato sack if you gave it to her," Danny said.

Draco caught the shirt and the Lass pulled out a gold fabric pen. "What's your daughter's name?"

"Grace."

The Lass scrawled her name on the shirt and Draco scribbled his on there as well. The shirt and pen got passed around to the rest of the band and by the time it got back to Danny, he had a shirt worth way more than a hundred dollars. He doubted Grace would ever sell it, though. She'd probably wear it until it was only threads.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much this is going to mean to her," he said.

"No, thank you," the Lass said. She planted a kiss on Draco's lips with a smirk. "Ya saved my boy."

"Saved me from laying on the sidewalk dead, instead I'm coming home to our nice warm bed," Draco started humming half-way through his sentence. He slid off the bench seat. "Hey, we should write a song 'bout almost getting shot. Twice."

Danny couldn't help the grin that stayed plastered on his face as the two moved toward the back of the bus again. He looked at his partner. Steve was grinning, too.

"A Danno's gonna save me just in time," he sang.

Danny kicked his shin with a laugh. "Shut up."

* * *

 **Check out a headshot of Draco on the art page!**

 **Next week on "Dragons", nightmares have been wreaking havoc on Grace and she seeks comfort in Danny's arms.**

 **Thank you all for being patient with my two week break and continuing reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	64. Fact 57

**Thank you for all the welcome backs and the wonderful reviews! It's nice to be missed.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #57: There are few places safer than in the arms of a dragon.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

Grace bolted upright with a gasp. Her shallow and rapid breaths filled her ears, competing with the white noise of the rain on the windows. She wiped a hand across her face, dismayed that her cheeks were wet with tears. This was the third night in a row she'd woken up crying.

Blinking to clear away horrid images, she pushed the sheets off and set her feet on the floor. She'd had the nightmares for a week after getting kidnapped again, but they had lessened with each passing day. Repeated reassurances that the bad guy was locked away and not going to hurt her or anyone else again had helped somewhat. Eventually, she had been able to sleep through the night again.

Now here, two months later, they were happening again. She didn't know why. All she knew was that she was seeing images of her father and uncle covered in blood with the bad guy standing over them again and again. It wasn't always in the jungle, either. Sometimes it'd be in her house, in her uncle's house, at the beach, at school, at the Palace, at the shrimp truck, places she barely recognized but must have visited at some point in her life. The ending was always the same. Uncle Steve was dead, her Danno was dead or dying, occasionally having enough life to give her a hug before the bad guy turned to get her. And it would repeat. Over and over, starting from the beginning each time she tried to go back to sleep.

She sniffed and scrubbed the heels of her hands firmly across her cheeks. Quietly, she stood up and vacated her room, walking silently down the hallway to Danno's room. His door was not quite all the way shut. She peeked through the crack. He was sleeping, the miniscule light coming from the window just enough to see his outline in his bed.

Grace closed her eyes as the haunting image of a man sitting in a chair barely illuminated by a sliver of sunlight flashed to the fore. His eerie and calm voice, his plainly delivered threat. His almost success. She wasn't dumb. Uncle Steve had wound up in the hospital after that and Danno had bandages on his face, arm, and chest, too. The bad guy had almost won. They tried to tell her everyone was fine, it was okay, but she knew otherwise. It had almost not been okay.

"Grace?"

She jumped. Danno was sitting up in bed and looking her way. She pushed his door open and slunk her way over to him. His arms were already open. With a deep sigh, she fell into them and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"Did I wake you up?" she asked.

His embrace tightened in a comforting way. "My dad senses were tingling. You okay, baby?"

She started to nod, and then shook her head, squeezing her eyes together when fresh tears pooled in the corners.

"Oh, Monkey," he mumbled and pulled her into his lap where she curled up into a ball, clinging to him for dear life. "Are the nightmares back?"

"He keeps killing you and Uncle Steve and I can't stop him," she said. Her voice had become thick with emotion.

"I know, Monkey, I know, but it's okay. We're okay, the bad guy's in jail in a special cell dragons can't get out of, okay? He can't come after us, and he'll never ever lay a hand on you ever again," he whispered into her hair.

Grace took a deep breath in to even her hitched breaths. Danno held her like that for a while, until her heart wasn't pounding and the tears weren't rolling. He settled her on the empty space next to him. She'd been embarrassed the first time she had asked to sleep in his bedroom, but had quickly learned it was one of the only ways to get some sleep when the nightmares were especially bad.

The rain continued pattering at the glass as he tucked the sheet around her. Lightning lit up the sky briefly with the low groan of thunder rumbling a few seconds afterward. She watched it with fascination, letting her mind wander from her nightmares and thinking instead of the story Uncle Steve had told her about using his gliding wings to freefall out of a plane during a thunderstorm. Danno had said he was nutcase, but she thought it was cool.

"Hey, Danno?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"Can you tell me a story?" she asked. The mattress dipped as he rolled onto his back next to her.

"About what? Goldilocks or the Three Little Pigs or did you want me to make one up?" he asked, one hand flitting around in the dark.

"No, a real story. About you doing dragon stuff," she clarified.

"Ah, Grace, you know I don't do much as a dragon," he said.

Grace frowned, but an idea percolated in the back of her mind. She sighed dramatically. "Okay. I guess your stories couldn't beat Uncle Steve's, anyway."

"What?"

She smirked. Like she said, she wasn't dumb.

"Your Uncle Steve is a loon, baby, and half his stories are made up on the fly while he's telling them! He's just trying to make me look like a boring stick in the mud," he objected, both hands waving around now. "I'll tell you story. It doesn't involve jumping out of a plane without a parachute, but it involves you as a baby."

Grace grinned and pulled the sheet up to her chin.

* * *

 _Somewhere in Maine, 2002…._

"Daniel–"

"Don't even say it–"

"I told you we should have waited until tomorrow to leave on this silly trip of yours," Rachel said. She glanced out the foggy car windows. "Now we're mired in a snowbank."

"If we had waited until tomorrow, the storm would have blocked the roads in Massachusetts and we wouldn't have been able to get up here at all," Danny said with a slow and calming exhale.

"It doesn't look like we're going to get there at all," Rachel crossed her arms over her chest. "Honestly, Daniel, why must we go up to your uncle's place? It is December. We should be heading south, not north."

Danny sat back and waved a hand around. "What? You'd rather be sitting by a pool in Miami than in this fan-freaking-tastic winter wonderland?"

If looks could kill, hers would have.

He pressed his palms together. "Please, Rachel, it's a family tradition to meet up at Uncle Rob's. I'm sorry my crappy salary can't take you somewhere where there's no black ice and decent cell service."

Rachel sighed. "I know. I'm just worried about Grace."

Both parents craned their heads around to the baby strapped in her car seat in the back. She hadn't even awoken when the car slid off the road and, with a hefty thump, lodged into a snowbank.

Danny rubbed one hand down his face. "Okay. How about I pull the car out and we try to make it the rest of the way, huh? We can't be more than, what, twenty or thirty miles from his orchard?"

"You? You're going to pull the car out?" Rachel asked, but a teasing smile hid behind the questioning look.

"I'm your mighty dragon, remember?" he flickered scorched blue tongue tips at her and smiled wickedly at the rosy red that flushed her cheeks and ear tips.

Rachel set her hand on his arm before he opened his door. "Danny, it might be a better idea to stay in the car."

"I can handle the cold, babe," he assured.

"No. I have no doubt you can muscle the car out of the snow and withstand the most frigid of temperatures, but what if the rest of the road is like this? What if we go off again and this time it's not just a simple slide into a snowbank?" she asked.

Danny ran his fingers through his hair. "I should have taken the Chief up on those chains he was trying to get rid of back in June, huh?"

"Perhaps," she said. "What if we wait for another car to come by?"

A plethora of stories and incidents involving people needing roadside assistance and getting brutally murdered by supposed good Samaritans sprang to his mind, but he knew better than to share the gory details of his job. "This is a pretty lonely road, you know, not many people coming and going. How about we stay in the car tonight, and wait until morning, okay? Uncle Rob, Pop, and Matty know what road I take to the orchard, and know what time we should've gotten there, and when we're not there in the morning I'm sure they'll start looking, okay?"

Rachel shivered, but nodded. She grumbled at the time on the small clock. "It is going to be a long night."

He pressed a button and cracked one of the windows before cranking the engine off.

"Why did you shut the car off?" she questioned.

"Because, if we run it constantly, there could be a carbon monoxide build up, and we don't have a whole lot of gas left," he gestured to the dash behind the wheel.

"I told you we needed to get gas at the last station we passed," she stared at him incredulously.

"We–"

"Would we have even made it to your uncle's place if there wasn't any ice or snow?"

Danny's reply was cut off by a soft coo from the backseat. Rachel unbuckled and turned around to check on their precious daughter. She fished her out of all the safety straps and brought her up front where the heat was remaining.

Over the next few hours, Danny would turn the car on for ten minutes at a time and try to sleep while Rachel nursed Grace, burped her, rocked her, and changed her once. Somewhere around one he took her and let Rachel get a few minutes rest in the ever so comfortable passenger seat. He talked quietly to Grace and soothed her when she started to fuss. As uncomfortable as it might have been, it wasn't too bad.

It wasn't too bad until the car didn't start at two-thirty in the morning.

Rachel stirred from her light sleep at his muttered curse. "Danny?"

"We are, uh, out of gas," he said a little sheepishly, holding Grace in one arm and trying to turn the engine over with the other.

"Daniel, you better not be having me on."

"I'm serious, Rachel, there's no gas in the tank. Zilch. Nada. Empty," he sat back with a half-hearted smack to the wheel.

She pulled her blanket around her tighter. "What are we going to do? It's going to get colder soon, especially with that damned window open."

Danny sighed. He didn't know what to do, because she was right. The coldest part of the night had yet to set in and it had stopped snowing. If the clouds blew out they were really screwed because there would go their insulation. They only had two blankets, the one Rachel was wrapped in and the one Grace was wrapped in. It hadn't crossed his mind to put together a winter emergency kit. He hadn't gotten to that part of training in the Boy Scouts before getting the boot.

He glanced over his shoulder. "Let's move the car seat up front and we can all huddle in the back."

Rachel clambered between the two bucket seats into the back and fiddled with the car seat for a moment. With much muttering and some arguing, they managed to get it into the passenger seat. He handed Grace back to her and worked himself through the two seats. Opening the door and losing any precious heat wasn't an option, so he squeezed himself into the back and grumbled about getting a bigger car one day.

"Here, let's do this," he said as he grabbed Rachel's blanket, propped himself leaning in the corner, and motioned for her to lay against him. He wrapped the blanket around her and Grace once she did. "And we'll just make a nice little burrito here and try to get some sleep, huh?"

They laid like that for a while, during which time the temperature dropped outside and inside, and he could feel Rachel starting to shake.

"You cold, babe?" he asked.

"It's freezing in here. I'm worried about Grace," she said.

Grace was wedged between them so their body heat would help keep her the warmest. Sound asleep, thankfully, but her little hands did feel cool to the touch. Danny swallowed and exhaled heavily.

"It's okay," he said.

With a small grimace, he partially shifted his stoking chamber into existence. Heat flooded his chest. Getting the heat going was like curling his fingers into a fist, a process that didn't require too much thought, and something that happened on accident when he was highly stressed in some circumstances.

Rachel snuggled closer to him. "You're incredibly warm. What are you doing? You're not burning, are you?"

"Keeping my girls warm," he answered. He licked his lips as acidic smoke snaked up his throat. Good thing he left the window cracked open.

Danny placed one hand on Grace's back, kind of enjoying her sleeping on his chest. He held Rachel close with his other arm and rested his head against the foggy window with his eyes closed. He doubted he'd get much sleep like this, but it was worth a shot.

He peeled an eye open when Rachel got up with Grace later. Checking the watch that was ice cold on his skin told him it was close to four in the morning. He'd been dry stoking for an hour and a half, a fact he was made painfully aware of when he sat up and started coughing.

"Danny? Are you okay?" Rachel asked, lightly bouncing Grace to burp her after nursing her.

Danny let out a rather uncouth burp. Hot smoke filtered through his nose and drifted away. His eyes watered. His organs pleaded with him to shut off the heat, and he did, feeling flushed as soon as his stoking chamber ceased to produce heat.

Rachel's fingers brushed his cheek. "Danny?"

"I'm okay, babe, I'm okay. How's my little Monkey doing?" he asked.

"She's fine," Rachel said and handed her to him.

Danny smiled at the yawning baby face. He brought her close and pulled Rachel close again, as well. He set his feet on the center console between the front seats and kinked his head back. The chill in the air had turned into a vicious bite. It didn't take him long to start dry stoking again.

It was around six in the morning when there was a rapid tapping on the back window. Danny sat up abruptly while holding Grace, scaring Rachel at his sudden movement. He shook off the utterly drained and flushed feeling, handed Grace to Rachel, and reached forward between the seats toward the glove compartment for his firearm.

He couldn't help but grin as his change in position let the headlights of another car light up the face peering in at them.

"Who is it?" Rachel asked, clutching Grace close.

"It's Uncle Rob," Danny laughed in relief.

* * *

 _Present…._

"I thought you could hurt yourself doing that," Grace said.

She felt her dad move next to her, probably nodding. "It's not good for me and gives me some serious heartburn, like when I ate some of Kamekona's jambalaya, but it was worth it to keep you and your mom warm."

Grace smiled. They had taken many trips up there despite that incident. She liked her Great Uncle Rob. He was fun and always had cool gifts for her when they visited. Her smile waned. She hadn't been to his place since she had moved to Hawaii. She rolled onto her side, facing the window and watching the rivulets of rain travel down the glass.

"I wish it snowed here," she said after a few moments of silence.

"I know, Monkey. I've tried to convince your Uncle Steve that the monotonous weather here doesn't really count as weather, but he just says 'it's a temperate climate, Danno, you should be happy you don't have to deal with scraping ice off your car or sliding off the road in the wintertime'," he quoted in a horrible mimic of her uncle's voice.

She giggled at him. "I bet Uncle Steve would like sledding."

"I bet the Neanderthal would find a way to turn it into an extreme competition, just like he does with surfing and everything else," he said, and she caught the flicker of one hand dancing overhead. That hand came to rest on her shoulder and he kissed her temple. "Good night, Monkey. If you need anything, I'm right here. Always."

"Night, Danno. Love you."

"Love you more."

"Love you times infinity," she whispered and closed her eyes, finally feeling some peace. Her Danno was there for her, in the past, present, and the future. Always.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", there's always something meaner and the boys find that out when they have a run in at the museum.**

 **Thank you for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	65. Fact 58

**A different beginning. Bear with me.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading and being quick as she is!**

* * *

 **Fact #58: There's always something bigger.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

 _Early Upper Cretaceous…._

Roughly ninety-five million years ago, in the area of what would one day be Northern Africa, a primitive draconic species mostly agreed on to be an _Armatura Draco_ , a type of armored creature closely resembling modern day Drakes, had made a kill it was able to take pride in. For the last few days it had been gorging on a massive sauropod it had taken down on its own. This specific Paralititan had been close to eighty feet long and nearly thirty feet tall at the head, a size that most apex predators would think twice about taking on. The Drake was proud of the kill, indeed.

Mating season was around the corner, and being young as he was, the Drake was ready to start his search for his mate. Unlike most creatures of the Cenomanian age, or any age before or after, most members of the various species of draconic creatures were monogamous and stayed mated with a single partner for life. The only other species thought to do the same were the raptors, the other smartest creatures of their time.

His nasal crest, throat, and short cranial horns were already flushing with color, popping with reds, oranges, and even blues that stood out against his earth toned scales. Impressive muscles in his short neck and broad shoulders were sure to attract him a female. He had already proven he was a skilled hunter that could provide for her and any young they would produce, all he had to do was have the fanciest footwork and butt heads the hardest with the other males.

Tearing strips of meat off a nearly bare ribcage, his olfactory sense was clogged with the smell of four day old meat and didn't scent the approach of another terrestrial predator. The climate of the Cenomanian was estimated to be a warm one with most landmasses covered by shallow seas, with winds creating large waves and weathering mountains and hills inland. The Drake and his carcass were on the tree line of one of said shallow seas and the approaching predator was coming up along the shore, its footfalls rendered silent by the sand.

The Drake pulled his head up at the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. He stood up on all fours, making his presence known to the other predator.

It was a Carcharodontosaurus, one of the largest terrestrial predators to have walked the earth, only rivaled by the likes of Tyrannosaurus, Giganotosaurus, and Spinosaurus. This one was a male as well, judging by the small yet vivid red crests just in front of his eyes.

For the most part, other terrestrial predators didn't bother the Drake or other draconic members unless they were young and vulnerable. Monsters of the sea were a different story, but terrestrial predators? They typically left well enough alone.

The Drake stood up on the ribcage and gave a short, low warning growl. More of a snort with bared teeth, a simple signal that meant 'hey, this is mine and you're not welcome'. The other predator stopped and cocked his head to the side, eyeing the Drake and the carcass. Paralititan was massive, and even after four days of being eaten on, there was still a lot of meat left.

The Carcharodontosaurus lifted his upper body up in an effort to show off his size. This particular male was almost ten feet tall at the head and thirty-three feet long, which was bigger than the Drake at six and a half-foot tall at the head and fifteen feet long. The major difference between the two was their stance, with the Drake being quadrupedal and the theropod bipedal.

Seeing the intruder wasn't going to back away, the Drake lunged over the carcass and reared up on his hind legs and brought himself eye level with his opponent. He roared.

The Carcharodontosaurus didn't appreciate the aggressive display and charged.

One of the major advantages the draconic species held was the possession of very flexible dewclaws, so flexible in fact, they were closer to thumbs. The Drake smacked the charging predator's head away with a solid blow and gripped his snout, dragging his head down in an attempt to unbalance him. Theropods weren't as graceful flat on the ground.

Serrated teeth clamped onto the Drake's thigh. Roaring, growling, screeching, and snorting followed, marking all the hits of their battle. Finally, the Drake got the upper hand when his opponent missed a step and stumbled. He wrapped his claws around the back of his neck and prepared to deliver a blow that, while it may not be fatal, would be severely wounding.

Rank breath washed over him a split second before huge jaws closed around his head and neck. He thrashed and yowled as a force like a tidal wave ripped him off the theropod and shook him like he was no more than a hatchling. His neck snapped.

The male Carcharodontosaurus pushed himself back onto his feet as his mate dropped the dead Drake. She was much bigger than either of them, a creature not to be trifled with at almost thirteen feet at the head and thirty-nine feet long.

Dragons may have been apex predators, but in the age of the dinosaur, they were never truly safe.

* * *

 _Modern day Oahu…._

The crushing pressure on his legs made him sit up with his elbows placed firmly on the ground. He pushed with all his might and immediately realized it was a terrible idea when the five foot long skull shifted. He collapsed back on the floor with a gasp. Shifting now wouldn't help, either. Not when he was impaled with serrated eight inch teeth, and not with how lightheaded he was starting to feel. With how well Murphy's Law was constantly in effect in his life, he wouldn't be too stunned if it turned out one of the teeth had nicked his femoral artery and was both injuring him and keeping him from bleeding out at the same time.

A shoe squeaked on the floor somewhere to his left.

Danny twisted with a grimace and snatched his gun up. He leveled it at the entryway to the connecting exhibit, heart beating a hundred miles an hour, feeling like he was a freaking rabbit caught in a bear trap waiting for the hunter to return. And of course there was a hunter, an armed man to be precise, running around the museum, because when was anything ever straight forward and easy for them?

The armed man that ran through the dim entryway wasn't the one that had shoved the display off onto him, though.

"Danny?" Steve questioned. He lowered his gun and scanned the exhibit hall with narrowed eyes. "What happened?"

"It's wabbit season," he quipped sharply, still hanging onto the rabbit in a bear trap image. His gun clattered to the ground and he laid fully on his back, eyes squeezing shut in pain and one hand fluttering out to gesture to the path their perp took. "The schmuck pushed Rexy off on me and booked it into the…uh…Ice Age exhibit over there."

"I ran into him in there," Steve crouched down next to him. "I think he slipped out a back door. Can't find him. Can you move?"

Danny slit his eyes open at him. "Gee, I don't know. It's not like I have a several hundred pound skull sitting on me or anything."

Steve rolled his eyes and holstered his gun. He turned to the skull and placed his hands on its snout. "Okay, I'll lift and you–"

"No!" Danny sat up and almost blacked out. He wavered and took a few deep breaths in. "Look at where those teeth are, you Neanderthal animal. I'm not a medic, but that doesn't look safe to move, huh?"

Steve tilted his head to the side to see where he was pointing. One large tooth had driven itself into his inner thigh, too close to the femoral artery to risk moving it.

"Didn't you scale up?" Steve questioned.

Danny combed a hand over his hair with a sour look on his face. "No, Steven, why ever would I scale up when a dinosaur is attacking me? They barely helped, the teeth cracked a few and went through them like they were a piece of cardboard or something, okay?"

"Damn it, Danno, you're the only one that would get bit by an extinct creature," Steve grabbed his phone out of his pocket.

"Excuse me? You're the danger magnet, not me," he retaliated, leaning back on his elbow and trying to keep his breathing under control. Talking about his scales cracking had refreshed the sickening sound in his head. Had the scales been fully formed, maybe the teeth would have just scratched him. As it was, he had barely seen the thing falling over out of the corner of his eye and knew for a fact his scales hadn't completely shifted. There were going to be some pretty scars on his legs now. He groaned. "I only got bit by Rexy because I was with you, and you wanted to intervene in a simple break-in instead of letting HPD handle it. I could be at home in my boxers right now catching the tail end of the game."

"We were closest," Steve said, holding the phone up to his ear. "And it's not a T-Rex."

Danny grunted. He set his head carefully on the floor again, willing the nausea and uncomfortable feeling of being pinned to go away. A manic giggle bubbled up. "Of course. Of course, you'd know that it's not a Tyrannosaur. You know twenty-six ways to kill a guy with a paperclip, can assemble and disassemble a gun blindfolded, and know all the dinosaurs only by their bones, and yet can't obey the simplest of traffic laws or police procedures."

Steve pointed at the stand the skull had fallen from. "I can read."

Danny squinted at the golden plaque. It was hard to make out in the dim lighting of the closed museum, it was close to midnight after all, but he could see it was a Car-something that had gotten him. He tried making out a few more words on the plaque as Steve talked on the phone to both Duke and EMS.

He barked out a laugh.

"Yeah, Cretaceous Hall, east side of the museum, second floor," Steve relayed and gave him a confused look at the outburst. He finished and dropped his phone to the floor. "What are you laughing at?"

Danny gestured loosely to the plaque with a flick of his fingers. "Go on, read it. I don't think its vocabulary is too big for you."

Steve let the harmless jab fly by without a reaction. He quickly scanned the plaque and picked out what his partner had found funny. "'Carcharodontosaurus is thought to have crossed paths with and possibly killed various draconic species, such as _Armatura Draconis_. Its teeth were strong enough to go through most scale types.'"

"Myth confirmed," Danny muttered.

Dragons may have been apex predators in all eras, but there was always something bigger and meaner out there.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", the gang gets tangled up in a tourist trap, two creepers, and a legend.**

 **Apparently, the Bishop Museum doesn't actually have dinosaurs, but as of now in this story they do, 'cause I love me some dinosaurs. I thought it would be interesting to see how dragons and them would have coexisted. Also, as a note, Season 4 is going to have a bit of world building in it concerning lore. So, keep that in mind.**

 **Thank you for your continued support! I appreciate all the follows, faves, and reviews!**


	66. Fact 59

**This is a little bit of a tribute to one of my favorite cartoons.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #59: Dragons and their deeds have always made them popular in legends and tales through the ages.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

"Dude, you totally missed the turn off," Tessa scolded.

"I did not! Clancy said we had to pass the turn off for the old pineapple field first, and then take a left," her boyfriend Tommy shot back, waving his hand wildly at the dark road in front of them.

Tessa also waved at the dark road and at the tall trees hemming them in on either side. "We must have shot passed it like, way back there. Do you even think they'd have a pineapple field up this far into the jungle?"

Tommy opened his mouth to argue, but his eyes widened and he slammed on the brakes.

Tessa glared at him as her seatbelt snapped tight across her lap and chest. "What the hell was that for?"

She followed his line of sight and let out a short and unbecoming, high pitched curse at what was caught in the headlights of the car.

A flat face with crazy hair, black eyes, gleaming teeth, and disproportionately short legs and arms looked back at them. The decidedly more human looking body it was dragging didn't move.

Hands slapped against the driver's side window. A flat face with a disgruntled look peered in at them.

"Go, go, go, get out of here!" Tessa urged.

Tommy threw the car in reverse and peeled away just as the thing started to open his door. They blasted backwards in a cloud of dust, leaving the two things and the dead man to quickly vanish into the dark.

* * *

Danny grunted as he climbed out of the passenger seat of the Camaro. His bruised legs protested at the movement and the stitches on the puncture wounds from the teeth pulled slightly. Two days. That was all it had been since the nearly five hundred pound skull had almost crushed him. He had lay awake the last two nights contemplating what would've happened had he not been a dragon and had he not started to shift when it pinned him. They weren't pleasant thoughts.

Thanks to the awkward and gap toothed placement of the teeth in the skull, he'd been deeply scratched by three teeth and impaled by two others, one of which had been close to his femoral artery. He'd heard the words 'severe muscle damage' tossed around upon arrival to the ER, but was once again saved by his shifting when it turned out the two that had impaled him had done so in places where his scales had provided some resistance and thus limited how far the teeth had gone in. His shifting had prevented his femurs from cracking under the weight, as well. All in all, he was stitched up, limping, and black and blue, but functional.

He'd also heard the word 'lucky' repeated a few times.

He leaned against the Camaro and looked over at his partner. "Tell me why again this is our case and not HPD's?"

"You sore?" Steve asked instead.

Danny's free hand waved around in a wild gesture. "No, why would I be sore? I only survived a dinosaur attack, but I'm sure a freaking Neanderthal such as yourself is used to that kind of thing, huh?"

"You know cavemen and dinosaurs didn't exist in the same time period, right?" Steve said as they walked at a slow pace toward the yellow crime scene tape in front of the trail.

"Yes, I know that. I'm also sure they walk among us today, you being the prime example, my friend," he said. The bandages prevented his pant legs from rubbing on the wounds and the stiffness from sitting the duration of the drive to the North Shore was wearing off now that he was walking. He probably couldn't walk very far or long before his legs would start to protest that. If only the heat and humidity would lessen, then he might be inclined to be in a better mood. "Where's Chin?"

"Up at the scene. Max already has the body and CSU is documenting," Steve lifted up the yellow tape.

Danny held up a hand to forestall him. "Hold on. If Max already has the body and the scene is being processed, why are we here? Do we take these small homicide cases because you're bored or something and can't wait for something bigger to drop in our laps?"

Steve frowned at him. "The Governor wants this wrapped up quickly."

"Why?" Danny asked, and then took a second to really look at their surroundings.

More spectators than he would think would be normal for this area had gathered at the taped off section, most clad in hiking gear while others had on simple shorts, tanks, and flipflops. The parking lot was well maintained and a few vendor stalls had been set up off to the sides, selling trinkets that usually only visitors from the mainland were suckered into buying.

"It's a tourist trap," he answered his own question. "You know, this island has an infestation of them."

"Any chance to exploit a natural habitat or cultural feature," Chin said as he approached.

"This is the ghost one, isn't it?" Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chest. By his body language he seemed to hold Chin's perspective on the exploitation angle as well.

"No, let me guess," Danny touched his forehead and fluttered his hand out to encompass the dark mass of jungle looming over them. "Someone was killed here and legend has it that their ghost can be seen wandering the area to this very day."

"You're pretty close, brah," Chin tilted his head toward the trail that meandered away south into the jungle, currently alive with the ant like marching of HPD and CSU. "It's the supposed site where the captain of a ship was murdered and then the crew killed the murderers. Legend has it that you can see the restless ghosts of the captain and the murderers fighting around the caves at the top of the trail."

Danny snorted. "What do we have on our victim? Does it look like an accident or is it more supernatural than that?"

"Careful, bud, remember what happened last time you started taking shots at another culture's beliefs," Steve warned with a small smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth.

Danny glanced back at his brand new Camaro, brows furrowing at the thought of more rocks being hurtled through his windows. "Alright, alright. Will someone just explain to me what's going on?"

"Dispatch got a call around two this morning from a couple who got lost while trying to meet up with a friend," Chin said and pointed west to a higher point where the road ran. "They had a run in with something that was dragging a body."

"Something?" Danny echoed, gut sinking. Did they really have to do this again?

"The way they describe it, it was a human like creature with a large, flat face, wild hair, black eyes, and huge teeth," Chin settled his hands on his hips and looked between the two of them.

Steve remained pensive looking while Danny raised his brows. "Drugs weren't involved, were they?"

Chin shook his head. "No. They were spooked, but clear headed when they got back within cell range to call it in. According to them, there were two creatures and one was dragging a dead man across the road. Whether or not there were any creatures, there is definitely a dead man."

Danny combed his fingers through his hair. He'd worked on his fair share of cases here and back in Jersey where frightened witnesses had described a monstrous looking man, or dragon, and it turned out to be an exaggeration. Despite his disbelief in the supernatural, a person dying close to a trail known for ghosts was a bit too much of coincidence.

He pivoted to examine the vendor stalls more closely and spotted a familiar face. "Huh."

"What?" Steve asked. He turned to see what he was looking at and made the same face. "Jerry? What're you doing here?"

The man was unmistakable with his mane of curly hair and matching beard, even under the guise of what they could only guess was an impersonation of a tourist complete with hiking boots, too tall white socks, and a small backpack strapped on his back.

"I could ask you guys the same thing," he said as he shuffled up to the yellow tape and peered around them at the trail with a curious expression. "What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to be concerned with. What's with the get up, babe?" Danny looked him up and down.

"Oh, you know. Just getting some fresh air," Jerry shrugged.

The three of them stared with varying degrees of incredulity.

He glanced around them and leaned over the yellow tape to speak in a hushed and conspiratorial tone. "Okay, fine. Rumor has it that someone found a clue."

Their incredulity turned to confusion.

"Seriously? You don't know the story behind the trail and the caves?" he asked.

"Dead people roam the area or something like that," Danny said.

Jerry blew a breath out through his nose. "Yeah, the story of the captain and the murderers. Everyone and their grandma knows it. But that's just the surface."

Chin suggested they go sit at one of the picnic tables on the police side of the yellow tape, a suggestion which Danny was grateful for. The throbbing in his thighs from standing was starting to take make itself known. He tenderly sat on the bench.

"Okay, what's the rest of the story here, Jerry?" Chin asked once they were settled at the table.

"Two nights ago, someone broke into the Bishop Museum and stole a Maori _matau_ ," Jerry started and was immediately interrupted by Danny.

"A what?"

"A fish hook," Steve supplied.

Anger flushed Danny's face. "I got crushed by a skull because of a fish hook? What kind of a putz breaks into a museum to steal a fish hook, huh? You can buy those things at gift shops all over the island. There's a stack of them right over there," he snapped and flicked a hand at the vendors in the parking lot.

Jerry held up a finger and maneuvered his backpack off. He set it on the table, unzipped it, and pulled out a piece of paper with several pictures and scribbled notes on it. "This wasn't just any fish hook. It was made out of dragon bone and had carvings on it. They dated it to the late 1700s."

"How did you know about the break-in?" Steve asked.

"I have my sources," Jerry answered simply. "Do you want to hear about this or not?"

"I'm sorry. Please continue," Chin apologized and eyed the other two.

"For a long time, no one could interpret what these carvings meant," Jerry tapped a finger on the picture as he slid it across the table to them. "But, a few of us agree that it's a map."

"A map of what?" Steve examined the tracings of the tiny carvings on the pictures with a deep furrow between his brows.

"You see, that's one thing none of us can agree on. Some say it's describing a place in New Zealand, where the hook was found, others think it's about another island. I always thought it described a cave on one of the islands in the Hawaiian chain," Jerry said. He sat back. "And with this being the site of the Firebird's death, I figured this was as good a place as any to start looking."

"The what?" Danny questioned.

"No, not a what," Jerry's enthusiastic grin grew as he realized he'd get to tell a story. "A who."

* * *

 _Five miles north of Oahu, 1802…._

"I am not particularly fond of the way these clouds are presenting, Lieutenant Martin," Captain Taylor said gravely to the lanky man standing next to him on the deck of the second-rate British ship, the _Conquest._

"Indeed, Captain," Martin agreed. "I doubt we can weather yet another gale without severe damage to the ship."

Taylor nodded. After successfully capturing a lone French man-o'-war that had no business sailing across the Pacific Ocean toward the Colonies, they had run directly into the jaws of one of those famed tropical storms. After getting separated from the French ship in the blinding rain and massive swells, he had feared the _Conquest_ and it would be sunk along with all the Spanish gold, silver, spices, and medicine, and his first lieutenant, Hollins. Thankfully, the _Conquest_ 's only loss had been two men overboard, but it was a small price to be paid compared to what it could have been. There was no telling how the man-o'-war had fared.

"It appears that the _Flamme de Gloire_ did not beat us to port as we had hoped," Taylor commented sourly.

The island was little over four nautical miles away, its dark mass in the gloomy afternoon a welcome sight after weeks upon weeks at sea. Still, no ship as large as the French one was anywhere in the vicinity. Taylor only had hope that it had not been overcome by the storm and was somewhere behind them.

"Captain," Martin said.

Taylor cast his eyes toward the horizon in the direction Martin was looking, seeing the speck finally amongst the dark waters. The vessel was too small to be the _Flamme de Gloire_.

"Keep our heading. We shall be close enough to the shore to drop anchor soon enough, and if this one means to cause mischief, we shall be ready," Taylor advised.

The vessel on the horizon increased in size as it drew closer by means of the favorable wind at its back. It was narrow, oddly so, and quick in the water with many billowing sails. It displayed no colors to identify its country of origin. While it was still out of range of their guns, an uneasy feeling took up residence in Taylor's bones.

"Wyvern!"

The unanimous holler went up around the deck of the ship as a shadow dipped out of the clouds and went whistling overhead, a trail of fire raining down on them. Utter chaos erupted as their sails caught.

Taylor let Martin and his crew set about managing the fire and instead pulled his pistols out. The beast had come from the bow, making a straight line down the center of the ship to the stern. He had only ever seen one other Wyvern attack at sea in his life. Wooden masts caulked with tar, ropes greased with fat, and gunpowder packed below deck made each and every Navy ship, and most any ship for that matter, a floating incendiary. The _St Peter_ had been blown to smithereens and he could little see how such an act was of any use to a pirate.

"Get that fire out, men!" he shouted.

Sure enough, just as he had hoped, the winged demon came from the stern this time to make another strafing run. He took his shot. The beast wavered in its flight, but continued its mission and released another torrent of fire upon them. More sails caught and the scent of the fat burning on the ropes teased his nose.

The young men up in the rigging hurriedly tried to cut the sails free in order to throw them into the water with the hope of saving the rest of the ship. Taylor admired their ingenuity. That hope and admiration were blasted apart when a cannonball struck the center mast on the ship. The beam groaned and men scattered as it gave way.

The ship bucked in the water as it collided with the deck. A pillar of fire now growing out of control blocked his way to his men. Rails and ropes snaked around on all sides, covered in flames, the heat turning unbearably hot on his face.

Another volley of cannons rocked the ship further. Men screamed, but he couldn't see them through the smoke and flames. He coughed, eyes watering, and glanced toward a fiery rail. Willingly jumping overboard was madness. Staying on a ship with a third deck packed full of gunpowder was even more so.

He had barely taken two steps when the shadow of a devil parted the curtain of fire around him. He could barely make out the beast through his watering eyes, could only see the eerie bended wings and the crown of horns.

"Every good captain goes down with his ship, Sir."

For a moment he believed the sentence had been a figment of his imagination. It had to have been. It simply couldn't be true otherwise. But the Wyvern, cursed beast that paid little mind to the encroaching heat, stood looking at him waiting for a reaction.

"You're a damned she-beast," he coughed harshly and waveringly pointed a pistol at her.

Golden rings glowing in the light adorned her horns and a great white hook graced her sinewy neck. All looted, undoubtedly. A pirate would have it no other way. Her red, orange, and yellow scales blurred and blended with the flames, her crisp blue eyes standing out against it all.

Her bony lips pulled back to reveal gleaming teeth in a dreadful and horrid smile. "And a bloody good one at that."

* * *

 _Modern day Oahu…._

"Alright, that's a great pirate story, but what does it have to do with this in the here and now?" Danny questioned.

"You see, the _Flamme de Gloire_ didn't sink in that storm, and when the first lieutenant bringing her into port heard about what happened to the _Conquest_ , he gathered a hunting party and they ran the pirates aground here on the North Shore," Jerry explained, bouncing in his seat in excitement. "They managed to get the Firebird pinned down here in the jungle and killed her, but no one's ever found the remains."

Danny's hand flicked out. "I'm guessing that she's the captain in the ghost story."

"It depends on who you're talking to. Some people tell it with Captain Taylor being the captain and the pirates being the murderers, others tell it with the Firebird being the captain and the Navy crew being the murderers. It's all about perspective," Jerry said.

"Does it matter? We still have a dead guy and no leads to start running down," Danny waved at the trail where CSU was starting to filter out.

"Woah," Jerry muttered. "Someone's dead?"

Chin nodded gravely. He glanced at Steve and Danny briefly and then back at Jerry. "Someone called it in early this morning. They said they saw two flat faced people dragging the body across the road."

"Flat faced?" Jerry echoed.

Danny exhaled heavily. He despised these kinds of cases. Things could get weird enough when dragons were involved, but throw in ghost stories and legends of pirates? Oh, yeah. Then they got really weird.

"Can you describe it?" Jerry asked.

Danny stood up while Chin relayed the description to Jerry. His legs had been doing this to him for the last two days, getting stiff when he sat too long and throbbing when he stood too long. It was infuriating. He rubbed his thighs, wincing as he pressed a little too hard on the bruises. Sitting just that long had been enough to make him stiff again. Plus, quite honestly, he didn't like sitting idle while there was a murder to be solved. That's what made him a good detective.

"Sounds like the ghosts of two Hananueans," he caught Jerry saying.

He frowned. "Are you serious? More ghosts? What are we, huh? The Scooby Doo gang stumbling into a mystery?"

"Really? Scooby Doo?" Steve questioned and looked up at him with a smirk.

"You watched it too when you were a kid, don't lie to me to save your tough guy image," Danny snapped.

"But, Danny does have a point. We need to get up there while the scene's still relatively fresh," Chin said and stood up from the table.

"Okay," Jerry sighed, watching them all start to leave. "I'll just stay here. Like a good civilian. You guys will be able to figure out if this is linked to the treasure of the Firebird."

Steve looked at Chin, and Danny didn't even need to ask what he was thinking before he turned around and invited Jerry across the yellow tape with a two finger flick. Grudgingly, Danny admitted that Jerry had been a big help with the case involving the Medici Rings. He wasn't sure if they would have been able to put all the pieces together without his expertise.

* * *

The trail maintained a steady incline up into the jungle that wouldn't have been a problem on a normal day proved difficult to Danny today. The thick canopy of leaves overhead shaded them, but did little to help the humidity that instantly clung their clothes to their backs. Slacks and a button down were definitely not meant for hiking, and Danny loathed to admit he could see the practicality of Steve's t-shirt, light cotton overshirt, and cargo pants.

Jerry huffed and puffed behind them, still talking of all things. Rattling on about the Hananueans, a Polynesian culture that had supposedly been wiped out in the mid-1700s. "So, as far as historians can tell, between the European settlers and pirates, they were pretty much plundered and erased off the map, their artifacts getting scattered to the Hawaiian Islands and New Zealand."

Chin pulled the group to a halt. A thicket of crushed ferns off to the left marked the location of the body while the trail continued on ahead of them. Steve and Danny slunk off the trail closer to the scene.

"How come you never came up here to look for the treasure before?" Chin asked Jerry.

Danny had been wondering the same thing, which was why he didn't put much stock in treasure stories. Sunken treasure was one thing, because even though there might be GPS coordinates available, the ocean could and would move things around on the seafloor and make it difficult to locate. Treasure remaining undiscovered in a cave on a populated island, and in the middle of a tourist trap no less, was a bit farfetched for him.

"I have. Several times," Jerry answered, watching Steve and Danny examine the scene with an intrigued expression. "It's always been a bust."

"What makes you think it'll be any different now?" Danny asked. He tilted his head up and squinted as a welcome breeze blew through and rustled the ferns around them as well as the leaves of a nearby tree, causing a flicker. What was that?

"More ideas about the symbols on the fish hook have come up since the robbery two nights ago," Jerry said. "I don't think the treasure's in the main cave, I think it's in a hidden offshoot."

Danny stood up with a grunt and dusted his slacks off before slowly making his way to the tree where he saw the faint glimmer of light. He couldn't see anything from the base, but he knew it had come from a crook in a branch a little ways up.

"What is it?" Steve asked as he stood by him.

"There's something reflecting up there. It might be trash or just the light, but – woah! Easy there, you gorilla," Danny crossed his arms over his chest and watched his partner scale the tree. He didn't even have to be in dragon form to be a good climber, and now he was just showing off by using only his bare hands. "Find anything up there, Tarzan?"

Steve cast a look over his shoulder. "You're going to love this."

That exact statement let Danny know he was not going to love whatever it was. Still, he waited anxiously at the bottom of the tree for Steve to clamber down and show him what he had recovered. Chin and Jerry gathered by them to see as Steve uncurled his fingers to reveal the contents of in his hand.

Danny looked him dead in the eye. "You have got to be kidding me. How and why have we turned into the crew from _National Treasure_ , huh? No normal detective has to deal this much with hidden treasure!"

Jerry's eyes were round and his jaw hung loosely. "May I?"

Steve shook his head. "Sorry. We're going to need CSU to print this and exclude my prints from whatever they find."

"That makes sense," Jerry nodded. He instead examined it intently with his eyes only. "It looks like a Spanish doubloon. They started minting them in 1537, but this one looks younger, from the late-1700s maybe."

"Two treasures in the same month," Chin said and chuckled.

"Okay, okay. Maybe it's from the pirate treasure, maybe it's an elaborate hoax, but if it is part of the Firebird's treasure, how did it get in the tree?" Danny chopped a hand out at the crook in the branch nearly twenty feet off the ground.

Jerry inhaled sharply. "Someone found it. If they had it out in the open, there's a possibility that a bird got off with a coin or two."

Danny hummed in thought. During one case back in Jersey a crow had swiped a bullet casing, their only evidence for the shooting, and taken it back to its nest. Luckily, he hadn't been the rookie sent to retrieve it. That big black bird had turned ugly as soon as the ladder was brought out and the poor kid had to climb it up to the nest.

"You know, this is the only place in the world that doesn't have crows," he commented.

"There are native Hawaiian crows, but only in captivity," Chin said. "But, there are ravens and mynah birds, both of which enjoy shiny objects."

Danny rubbed a hand over his face as Steve dropped the gold coin into an evidence bag and tucked it in his pocket. "Okay, let's say a bird absconded away with the doubloon. Where did it come from?"

Jerry's face lit up. "The caves. I bet they were moving the treasure or brought some of it outside."

Steve shrugged. "As good a place to start as any."

* * *

The caves had well worn footpaths from many guides leading people around the old lava tubes. They had their flashlights out and the cave they were currently in was well lit from the four separate beams, but Danny's heart pounded in his chest something fierce. He had to force himself to take calm and even breaths. The aching in his legs wasn't helping, either.

Steve dropped back from Chin and Jerry. "Hey, you doing okay?"

"Absolutely wonderful, now that you ask. You know how much I love traipsing around in cramped, dark tunnels," he snarked, swallowing thickly as his free flying hand bumped the cool rock wall to the side of him.

"I'm sorry, man. I forgot about the whole claustrophobia thing," Steve said. He pointed his flashlight behind them. "You can go back and wait outside."

He craned his head around at the pitch black in their wake, a ghost of a tremor passing over him at the thought of navigating the path back out of the cave. Alone.

"I'm screwed one way or the other. Let's just get this over with so we can get out of here, okay?" he said.

Steve squeezed his shoulder in reassurance and hung back with him until they came into a large room in the cave system. Chin and Jerry swung their beams around the dripping walls.

"Did you actually have a plan, or did you just want to drag us into this freakishly dark cave for a laugh?" Danny questioned.

Jerry directed his light at the paper with the pictures of the fish hook. "We're in the right place."

"Well, that's reassuring," Danny muttered and roughly combed his fingers through his hair, pacing in a tight circle, his limp becoming more noticeable.

"This little symbol. It looks like it's saying 'under and up'," Jerry pointed out the tiny carving to Steve and Chin.

Steve moved to the far side of the rather expansive room, most of which was hidden in the deepest blackness Danny had ever seen. The light of his bream swept across the bottom edge of the wall and came to a stop at a dip in the ground.

"This could be an offshoot to another part of the cave system," Steve said and crouched by it.

Danny followed the other two over to his partner. The gap under the rock wall was narrow, but not so much so that a person couldn't fit through. Not him, though. He felt physically ill just looking at it.

"Have you guys been up here before?" Jerry asked.

"A few times," Chin said while Steve answered once.

"The guides say they've explored the rooms on the other side of this one. This is a small passage that leads to them," Jerry explained. He frowned. "Probably means there's nothing over there. Unless…."

"Unless what?" Danny looked at him.

"Unless this little 'under and up' symbol means you need to crawl through the gap and stand up," Jerry said. "Think about it. If you're crawling through a tunnel like that, you're not necessarily looking up."

"It's worth a look," Steve said, already pulling his holster and badge off.

"Woah, woah, woah. Hold on a second, Steve. This is how everyone dies in a horror movie, remember? One guy splits off to go explore some dark hole and then gets eaten," Danny objected.

"I'll go with him. I used to do a bit of spelunking as a teen," Chin set his holster and badge off to the side along with Steve's.

"Why am I surrounded by adrenaline junkies? Why?" Danny pinched the bridge of his nose and then shooed them away. "Fine. Go get eaten. But I'm not crawling through that tiny gap to come save your asses, got it?"

"You'd do it if you had to," Steve said with a smirk. He elbow crawled under the gap, disappearing into who knew where.

"No, no I wouldn't," Danny continued to object. He glanced at Jerry. "You going too, Indiana Jones?"

"I'm not exactly the right size for it," Jerry said.

Danny remained sitting on the ground by the narrow gap long after Chin's shoes had vanished under the rock wall. He could hear them scuffling along the tunnel. He wasn't sure how he had become such good friends with such boneheads. They rarely found the same things fun and yet got on great with each other, except for the occasional fight because Steve had said or done something to provoke him. Usually on purpose.

Silence descended on the cave after the scooching sounds faded. The steady drip of water droplets falling from stalactites high on the rock ceiling became a background noise. All Danny had to focus on was his breathing and his heartrate, which was at a faster pace than he would like. He sat on his butt, taking the weight off his shaking legs and giving them a reprieve.

"You know, I never really bought into the whole dragon hoard notion," Jerry broke the silence.

Almost glad of the distraction, Danny eyed him. "You don't think the knights of the Middle Ages were telling the truth, huh? About how they would track down big scaly monsters to slay them and steal their treasure?"

Jerry shook his head slowly, trailing his flashlight up the wall and passively gazing at the network of cracks spiderwebbing over the surface. "The Middle Ages were a dark time for dragons in Europe. And anywhere they decided to invade. Did you know they killed dragons during the Salem witch trials? Yeah, even just a faint whisper of someone having scales would get them burned or drowned."

He didn't care for this distraction anymore.

* * *

Steve popped up through the vertical tunnel, hands pressed firmly to either side of him on the smooth rock. Once his feet were on solid ground he gave Chin a hand, the bend in the tunnel proving somewhat awkward for a tall man to maneuver through.

"Huh," Chin huffed and surveyed the chamber. It wasn't as big as the one they had just come from, but it was a decent size. "You think anyone's been in here?"

Steve glanced at the ground. Being made of rock, there really wasn't much to signal the coming or going of anyone. However, the squashed and crumpled leaf standing out green against the charcoal rock was a telltale sign.

"This is fresh. Someone's been here recently," he said.

They wandered around the medium sized chamber, shining their lights in the nooks and crannies of the walls in a search for more evidence. If someone had been in here, what had they been doing?

"Hey, Steve, look at this," Chin called him over.

Hard to see from the other side of the chamber, but obvious the closer he got, a black maw of a crevasse ran from the ceiling to the ground. The two synonyms that came to the fore in Steve's mind were oblivion and unknown. Unsettling and creepy would have worked, too.

Most astoundingly, a light breeze wafted through, cool and damp on their faces.

"It must have an opening somewhere above ground," Chin voiced his thought. The white-blue light of his flashlight highlighted his perked brow as he looked at Steve. "Danny's right."

"About what?" Steve asked, already sliding sideways through the gap.

"I feel like we're in a movie."

Steve heard Chin scraping along behind him down the cramped passage. "Yeah? A horror movie or an adventure movie?"

"Hopefully the latter. Dying in a cave is not on my bucket list."

Steve grinned, able to hear the humor in his voice. Danny was probably right about him being insane.

At last, the walls fell away and he was in another room again. He swept his light upwards and cursed, nearly jumping back into Chin as he emerged from the crack in the wall.

"You okay, brah?"

"Fine," he muttered and redirected his beam back up at what had startled him.

Hanging from old ropes attached to the ceiling and wall, a skull glared down at them. A dragon skull.

Chin murmured softly.

Long fingerbones were severely ensnared in the ropes, one wing dangling in open space since the ropes appeared to have snapped or rotted away on that side some time ago. A deep ribcage cast eerie shadows on the wall as the lights passed over it. Talons hung limply from sturdy legs and tailbones littered the ground. Most impressive of all, though, was the fact that still upon the crown of horns were rings of gold.

"It's the Firebird," Steve said.

 _Scritch._

They both whipped their heads to the far side of the chamber. A snatch of a flat face stared at them briefly before bolting away. Steve raced after it with Chin hot on his heels.

* * *

Danny sat up at the sound of feet hitting the ground behind them. The slap, slap sound bounced around in the tunnel they had come down earlier. He motioned for Jerry to stay against the wall and keep quiet. Reluctantly, he turned off his flashlight and immediately felt a spike in his heartrate.

Easy. Easy. He couldn't actually see the walls closing in when he couldn't see at all. He was in a dark house, that was all. He'd been in a million dark houses as a patrol officer and as a detective, and most importantly as Steve's partner. This was no different.

He waited until a wildly swinging light burst into the room and he turned his flashlight back on with his left hand, his right braced on it with his gun aimed directly at the intruder.

"What the hell?" he barked.

The large flat face cocked to the side. Fangs as large as Danny's claws dropped out of the wide open mouth and black eyes stared sightlessly back at him. The crazy hair sweeping off of its rather rectangular head was actually feathers.

It finally clicked what was going on. "Five-0, don't move!"

And it didn't turn and run away for a change. Danny scowled. Something didn't feel right.

Suddenly, he was blinded by a strobing light and instinctively shut his eyes. When he opened them again the thing was no longer in his beam. He relied on his ears to tell him where it was. He jerked right and caught sight of the flat face just as it launched at him.

A fist, a distinctly human fist, cracked across his jaw and stars exploded in his vision. Full fight mode kicked in and he managed to block the next punch, only grunting when the person kicked him in the shin and silently praying that he didn't get hit in the thigh. Now that the element of surprise was gone, he could tell the person was fighting clumsily, but very vigorously.

The move he wasn't prepared for was the headbutt. With such a massive face, it rang his bell with a wooden thud. He stumbled back, blinking rapidly and touching his bloodied nose.

Another light illuminated the person and offered the perfect distraction. Danny tackled him. He rolled the person onto his stomach with his knee pressed between his shoulder blades and hastily cuffed him.

He looked up at the other beam of light, panting from the exertion. "Thanks for jumping in there finally."

"No problem," Jerry said. He squatted next to the struggling and cursing person. "I think you just caught a ghost."

"Nope," Danny stood up, almost stumbled as the muscles in his legs trembled, steadied himself quickly, and hauled the man to his feet. "Not a ghost. Just a whackjob in a big freaky mask, right?"

Jerry eagerly pulled the large wooden mask off and made a face at the young, thin man that had been underneath it. "I know this guy."

"What?" he questioned.

"He's one of the guides here," Jerry frowned. He lowered his head and examined the mask in his hands, gently touching the worn and crumbling feathers, tracing his fingers over the grains of wood and ancient stain that brought color to certain parts of the face. "This looks like a real Hananuean mask. Did you find it with the treasure?"

The man spat angrily. "I ain't telling you guys jack."

"Oh, is that so?" Danny smirked grimly. "You'll be whistling a different tune once the murder charges are brought up."

"Damn it," the man cursed again. "I told him we should've left the body up there."

"Told who? Your partner? Where is he?" Danny questioned.

The man clammed up.

"You'll also be glad to know that charges for breaking and entering and assaulting an officer are going to brought up, too," Danny growled. The man tensed. "Yeah, bozo, one of you shoved a skull off onto me and for what, a fish hook? Why risk it?"

With the extra charges starting to add up, the man shrunk in stature a little. "The buyer wanted the whole kit and kaboodle. Gold, skeleton, and the stupid fish hook."

Not really satisfied with the answer, Danny told Jerry to grab Steve and Chin's guns and badges and had him lead the way out. He wiped his nose on his wrist as they trekked the tunnel. It didn't feel broken, but he wouldn't be surprised if he had a black eye, or two, in the morning. He was going to be a limping monstrous looking thing by the end of the week at this rate.

His eyes protested violently at the sunlight filtering through the tree canopy outside. They adjusted quickly, though, and he was able to continue marching the man back down the trail.

About midway down he spotted Chin and Steve walking towards them through the undergrowth. He paused.

"So you bagged one of these geniuses, too, huh?" he called out to them.

Steve raised a similar large wooden mask up in greeting, and somewhat in victory. Danny waited for them to reach the trail where they could join their merry party.

"We found it," Steve said.

"You found what?" Danny asked. "Don't tell me you found a mountain of gold in there."

"Not a mountain, but enough. And we found the Firebird."

* * *

"Are you sure we couldn't have kept at least a few of those coins?" Danny asked. He leaned back in his swivel chair, enjoying the wonderful air conditioner of the bullpen and the icepack balanced on either thigh.

"They belong to the museum. They'll authenticate the treasure and maybe even send it off to other museums," Steve said. "And you complain about me breaking the law."

"No, no, I'm just wishfully thinking. You actually break the law, on a daily basis, in an effort I'm sure to give me a heart attack or a head full of gray hair," Danny said with a possessive brush back over his very much still blond hair. "You know, for a pirate treasure there wasn't a whole lot there. I expected some, oh, I don't know, wooden chests spilling over with doubloons and pearls, diamonds and emeralds and rubies lining the cave walls. A sword made out of solid gold."

"Real treasures sites don't look like that scene from _Pirates of the Caribbean_ , brah," Chin chided with a small smile.

"Forget Pirates, he's thinking _Treasure Planet_ ," Steve grinned.

Danny pointed at him and looked at Chin for confirmation. "You see? He does have a child buried deep down under all that tough Navy SEAL exterior and government secrets. You liked that movie when Grace brought it over, I knew it."

Steve shrugged, further irritating Danny and making Chin laugh.

"What're they doing with the Firebird skeleton and that bone hook thing? I'd like to know since I almost got crushed because of it," Danny asked, purposefully ignoring his partner and turning toward Chin.

"They're seeing if they can get permission to mount her in the Mo'o Hall along with her _matau_ ," Chin said. He exhaled heavily and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the smart table. "They still can't tell if she was strung up in the cave after she was dead or before."

It would have been a gruesome way to go, especially for a flier. Trapped underground, unable to get free. On the flip side, from the legends about the Firebird, it wasn't too much of a stretch to believe she had her crew put her up there so she could watch over her treasure and scare any who dared to enter. Mostly Steve, as Chin had later slipped to Danny. He sniggered at the image.

"What gets me is those two knuckleheads running around in masks. What were they thinking, that they were going to scare people off? Don't they know humans have this strange tendency to head _toward_ danger and the unusual, not away?" Danny waved a hand around as he spoke, specifically motioning to Steve at the end.

"Almost three million dollars in gold doubloons will make you do all kinds of things," Chin said.

"Their buyer would've been better off just getting gold the legal way," Danny said.

He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling, contemplating the fact that they had arrested three people, found a lost treasure, and solved a murder case all in barely one morning. The oddness of it all still baffled him. He supposed Chin was right. When money was involved, people started doing things they would normally never do, like running around in two authentic old masks that they happened to find in the cave along with the skeleton and the gold.

He laughed as he recalled the reference he had made earlier that morning. "And they would've gotten away with it, too."

"If it weren't for us meddling kids," Steve finished.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", nightm** **ares are yet again on the prowl, and Danny gets a call from a familiar face.**

 **There is artwork for this chapter and the previous chapter on the art page now!**

 **I always enjoyed a good ole Scooby Doo episode. Also had a small shout out to Naomi Novik's Temeraire series I just started reading with the _Flamme de Gloire_. Also, there was a small reference to a movie Daniel Dae Kim was in.**

 **Thank you for reading! And thank you for the fave, follows, and reviews (which I may be slower to reply to since I'm on vacation again). Also, to guest reviewer Joanne, I can only send the link to the art page via PMs since won't let me post a link otherwise.**


	67. Fact 60

**Thankfully, I got this one done before I left on vacation and went to an Imagine Dragons concert on Saturday. It was awesome, even though Dan was scratchy and could hardly sing. XD**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #60: While dragons aren't elephants, sometimes they never forget, either.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

There was an explosion of movement in the dark room. A cat launched into the air. A blanket went sailing off the bed and the thin sheet shrink wrapped around the flailing body, inducing more panic. With a confused yelp, the sheet and body both jumped off the bed and crashed to the floor in a heap.

The light flicked on and an older woman with short silver hair in a pixie cut hurried into the room. She hastily untangled her daughter from the writhing sheet, knowing by now to duck the flying fist, and pulled her in close.

"Love, please calm down, you're okay, Tamarin, you're okay," Chetna soothed, stroking the dark shoulder length hair.

Tamarin heaved for breath against her chest. Her mother knew she was awake and out of the flashback when she started trembling, hiccupping on a sob. She slowly rocked her back and forth on the floor.

"Tam?"

Chetna looked up at her husband in the doorway and tilted her head to the side in a gesture toward the kitchen.

"Right. I'll get the kettle on," he nodded and took off.

Tamarin pulled against her mother's encircling arms as she sat up. Using the heels of her palms she scrubbed her tears away and swallowed. Still shaking, but determined, she hobbled up on her one leg with her mother's help and limped across the room to the crib in the corner.

"A bleedin' train going through the room wouldn't wake him up," Chetna commented quietly, earning a snorting chuckle from her daughter.

Tamarin's delicate fingers gripped the wooden railing of the crib with white knuckles, as if she was holding onto to it for dear life, making sure it wouldn't slip out of her hands. Red rimmed eyes looked up at Chetna.

"Can you go grab my phone off the table, Mum?" she asked hoarsely.

"Be back in a tic," Chetna padded out of the room.

Her baby's soft cheeks held up as she touched him, not dissolving into nothing, taken away by cold and uncaring hands only for her to never see him again. He was hers. She was raising him with her parents' help. Healthy, chunky, happy. With a pang in her chest so deep it was knifelike, she wondered what had become of her two other babies.

Chetna reappeared, phone in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. Tamarin slid to the floor beside the crib. Her mother handed the phone over and set the cup next to her.

"Do you want me to stay?" she asked softly.

Tamarin shook her head.

"Okay, love, we'll be in the kitchen, then," she said as she left.

The quiet of the room and the gentle rush of the rain against the windows almost had the opposite effect it did on most people. She didn't really care for it being so quiet. It reminded her too much of quiet, rainy nights on the ocean and the creaking of the ship.

That cat that had been launched off the bed slunk up to her with a low, croaky meow. It butted its head against her elbow and crawled into her lap. The rumbling purr was more soothing than the quiet.

Blinking away tears, one hand petting the gray tabby, she steadied her breathing and unlocked her phone. She scrolled her contacts. She didn't have many. More disturbing than that, most of the ones she did have were doctors.

Her thumb hovered over one name in particular.

* * *

Danny couldn't believe his ears at the outrageous yarn Steve was spinning about fighting a crocodile in one of the rivers of India. Of course, Grace's eyes were round with awe and she was hanging on every ridiculous word. For initially being so uptight in the beginning of their partnership, Steve had loosened up and learned to have fun, sometimes to Danny's alarm. His version of fun wasn't always the same as his.

He had to interrupt before it could carry on any further.

"What're you doing lying to my kid, huh?" he waved a hand at Grace sitting next to him at the table on the lanai behind Steve's house.

"I'm not lying, Danny, the crocodile _was_ twenty feet long," Steve defended. "I even have the scar on my tail to prove it."

Danny's brows went up and his hands settled on the table. "Oh, so that means you actually have a scar on your–"

"Hey, hey! Don't talk about me corrupting your kid," Steve said and took a swig out of his beer.

Grace giggled, her ears lighting up red. Unfortunately for the adults, she had turned eleven at the end of May and was no longer as naïve as Danny had hoped she would remain. She caught on to a lot more things most of the time.

Danny, however, had to smirk this time as pink flushed his partner's face. Chin chuckled at the discomfort as well.

His phone chimed in his pocket. It wasn't a customized ringtone, he only had those for his team, daughter, and ex-wife. And his ex-wife's lawyer. Something about the area code looked familiar, though.

"I better answer this," he stood up from the table and walked back inside the house.

"So, Grace, got any embarrassing stories about your dad?" Steve asked before he was out of earshot.

Had his daughter not been sitting there, he would have raised the one finger salute to him, but just gave him a scowl instead. He tapped the answer button.

"Detective Williams."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. He was about to hang up and declare it a wrong number or telemarketer when a soft, kind voice with a lilt drifted through the speaker, bringing back nightmarish memories.

" _Hi, sweetheart."_

"Tamarin?" he asked. The cool counter under his hand helped ground him in the sunny afternoon, taking him out of the dark and stale shipping container. He swallowed, feeling the ghost pains of a band around his snout and a heavy chain on his ankle. "How are you, babe? Wait, isn't it after four in the morning over there?"

" _Half passed. I honestly forgot the time difference when I called. I hope I didn't interrupt anything?"_

Danny glanced back at the table outside where three of his _ohana_ sat laughing. They were one down with Kono still hunting the Yakuza. He shook his head. He hadn't spoken with Tamarin since she had left for England with her parents, about a month after they had broken up the breeding operation. That had been close to six months ago.

He took a deep breath. He owed her more than a few words. "No, I was having dinner with my team, but you didn't interrupt anything, okay? What're you doing up so late, huh? Or early, I guess?"

Another long pause, but this time he could hear her shaking breaths. " _I…um...had an episode. I have them quite often, but not nearly as much as I used to, thankfully. I just…it…it really rattled me this time and I…I needed…oh, bother, I'm rubbish at four in the morning."_

Her sad and wet laugh made him crack a small sympathetic smile. "It's okay. How's the baby?"

" _Spoiled. Mum loves him to bits."_

He nodded and leaned against the counter, pleased the change in topic seemed to ease the conversation. "That's good. How's England? Where are you living?"

" _Round 'bout near Greenwich. It's very green right now. We went down into Wales a few days ago, went to Portmeirion. It's even greener there."_

Steve walked into the kitchen. He tossed the paper plates in his hand into the trash and mouthed 'who is it' to Danny as he opened the fridge to retrieve another beer.

Danny covered the mouthpiece. "It's Tamarin."

"Tamarin?" Steve echoed. "How's she doing?"

Danny made an 'eh' motion with his hand, giving him a look that said he would explain later. Steve nodded and left.

" _What's the weather there? Sunny?"_

"Always. It's always sunny, even when it's raining. The locals call it liquid sunshine," he said, one hand twitching like he wanted to gesture. He probably could have gone on a long rant about the temperate climate, but chose not to.

" _It's just liquid here. It was raining when I went to bed and it's still raining."_

"Danno, can I go with – oh, sorry," Grace sheepishly lowered her voice when she realized he was still on the phone. She stood bare footed at the entrance of the kitchen, biting her lower lip.

" _Who was that?"_

"That's my daughter, Grace," Danny said. He tilted the phone away from his mouth a little bit. "Can you go with who, Monkey?"

"Uncle Chin was wondering if I wanted to go get shave ice with him," she said and grinned sweetly.

"Okay. But take the Camaro or Uncle Steve's truck, got it? I don't want you riding his motorcycle, huh?" Danny called after her as she turned on her heel and bolted away. "And get me a cherry one! Sorry, babe, she gets excited when shaved ice is involved."

" _You call your daughter Monkey?"_

He smiled. "Yep, she's my little Monkey."

There was a soft giggle. " _Did you know that a tamarin is a type of monkey?"_

"You're kidding," Danny shared her gentle laugh. He cleared his throat and one hand fluttered out. "I guess I owe my life to two monkeys."

Silence. And then the voice returned, shaking like before. " _I have nightmares. Of being back on the ship. That's what woke me up this morning. They were trying to take away my baby again, and no one was helping me, and I just needed…I needed to hear your voice…my fierce sweetheart."_

He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to steady his own breathing. Nightmares had, and still occasionally, plagued him. "I, uh, didn't really thank you for what you did back then on the ship, you know, talking to me. I don't think I would've kept calm enough to figure a way out if you hadn't have done that, helped me keep my claustrophobia and anxiety in check, you know? So thank you."

" _I would've…I don't know how much longer I would've made it. You saved me, and you saved everyone else. And most importantly, you saved_ my _Danny."_

For once, all the credit and gratitude was being bestowed upon him and he didn't know how to handle it. Steve just gave a grin that made women melt and gave the serious 'it was my duty, sir' to the authorities. He avoided saying much about it by talking about more mundane things for a while longer with her. Her parents, the food there, her two cats, and then he told her of the recent treasure hunt the team had embarked on.

Nearly an hour later, he heard a cry in the background. "That sounds like someone's hungry, huh?"

" _This is when he normally gets up to nurse. I'm going to have to let you go."_

"Okay. You take care of yourself, huh? Don't make me get on a plane and spend a freakishly long time flying over there to check up on you, okay?" he chided with a tiny bit of humor.

" _Yes, sweetheart. But…um…is it okay if I call you again?"_

"Call anytime you need to, Tamarin. And send me a picture of mini Danny," he said.

She chuckled. " _Thank you. And I will. Good…heck, what is it now? Evening over there? Good evening."_

"Have a good morning," he replied.

Steve slipped back into the kitchen after he hung up. "You okay, bud?"

He sighed. "Me? I'm fantastic compared to her. She's still having waking nightmares, but I guess her being there five years longer than me would do that."

Steve leaned against the counter next to him. "Are you still having nightmares?"

"Nightmares? No, only once in a blue moon when something triggers a memory, like after Harry handcuffed us and threw us in his underground prison thing," he said, one hand flitting around before coming to snake across his chest along with the other. "I think going to the island right after it all happened helped."

Steve smirked. "Told you."

"Oh, now don't go and get a big head, you Neanderthal, or I'll take it all back," he said and walked away back out to the lanai. He sat down and watched the sun cast gold and orange rays on the rippling water. With it being the start of October, the waves would be getting bigger, especially out in Waimea.

"We're back!"

Grace and Chin stepped outside carrying a shave ice each. Grace handed the bright cherry red one to Danny and Chin handed a neon green one to Steve.

Danny pointed at it. "Are you seriously having a lime and beer salt shaved ice? Again?"

"No," Steve said and stabbed his plastic spoon into the heap.

"Dill pickle?"

"Ew," Grace made a face.

"It's green apple, Danny, okay? Calm down," Steve said.

"Huh," Danny shoveled a spoonful of cherry flavored ice into his mouth and admitted that Chin had excellent choice in desserts. It was just right to end his day on.

He pulled his phone out and added Tamarin's number to his contacts. As he ate his shave ice down to the bottom of the cup he contemplated on what ringtone he should give her.

* * *

 **Ah, Tamarin. What ringtone should Danny give her?**

 **Next week on "Dragons", cultures throughout history have held varying views on dragons.**

 **Guest reviewer Joanne, PMs are private messages, the site's messaging system between members. It's the only way for me to send the link. It won't let me post it otherwise. And I don't want you putting your email out there. Never know what trolls could use it.**

 **Thank you for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	68. Fact 61

**Bear with me until the end of the chapter. ;)**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #61: Cultures around the world have held differing views on dragons throughout history.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

 _ **Egyptians**_

Standing tall and proud, she presented their son to the reigning Pharaoh. Though he had taken many daughters of his allies as concubines, some of them quite beautiful and having glittering scales, none could grant him an heir such as she could. None could give him a pure dragon untarnished by human blood. Only his Great Royal Wife could hand him the infant Drake.

"My Queen, what fine colors he has," Pharaoh complimented, holding his son under the forelegs and away from his face to better examine him. Hints of oranges and golds sparkled in the light and the trademark turquoise that ran in both the Queen and Pharaoh's bloodlines sat like jewels along the infant's back and under his eyes. "A royal heir befitting us, is he not?"

The Queen tilted her head to the side. She herself was a Drake as was Pharaoh, though she was longer in the legs and neck than most. Graced with thin delicate golden chains around her neck, tail, and horns, anklets with carnelian gems, and a streak of black makeup under her azure eyes, her scales were alight with fiery orange on her back that faded to a soft peach at her toes with turquoise spots in mesmerizing patterns down her sides. Her husband wore the finest of jewelry as well, and his scales, though not present at the moment, rippled with pale yellows and turquoise stripes about his face. A rare pairing they were, indeed.

Her polished claws clacked on the floor as she turned. "Let us present him to the people and see them bow down before the gods that walk among them."

Even to this day, turquoise markings are thought to come from the unique Egyptian Drakes.

 _ **Aztecs**_

He wore the skulls of his enemies around his neck and painted his face in their blood. His talons were sharp, his teeth sharper. Long and lithe like a snake, agile and swift like a monkey, and fiercely colored like a jaguar, he was their symbol of victory. He led them into battle. It was his mighty cry that rallied his people into a frenzy.

He was a god among them and every now and again, he had to eliminate the other gods that rose up from among the people to maintain his position. Demanding sacrifices of young dragons had worked nicely for him.

Years became decades. No one fought for his place. No one until the humans in the wooden ships appeared on their shores. These men wore silver armor and didn't fall so easily by his claws. They could create claps of thunder from metal cylinders. Horses carried them at great speeds, allowing them to deal a blow and already be gone before a human could retaliate.

They hated him. These conquerors from a distant land, Spaniards is what they called themselves, took one look at him and made it their mission to destroy him. To prove he was no god.

And they did. They finally killed him and any other dragon warrior who might have tried to rise up to defend the Aztec or Incan empires. They wiped his worshipped status off the map to the point there was scarcely a depiction left of him anywhere, not until historians later found his image carved in a sacred temple in the middle of the Central American jungle.

There're rumors of descendants, children born from hasty relations once he had realized his impending doom, progeny to carry on his legacy. The incredibly rare jaguar spots on the scant Drakes and Arboreals alive today could very well be from his genes.

 _ **Cavemen**_

The bull Mammoth swung his head side to side, sending one of their hunting party high into the air. It was an older bull, one that had obviously grown wise to their tactics of driving the creatures over the precipice of the cliff. The party leader looked to his fellow hunters, both of them younger than him, both of them his sons.

The bull bellowed and charged forward in their moment of hesitation. He dove off to the side. His oldest son rolled behind the shelter of a boulder, but his youngest did not. The bull took notice of him and gave chase.

Already up in years, the father had no hope of saving his son and didn't want to risk his other one. They had lost one family member already to the tusks of the bull and he couldn't afford to lose all three sons.

His son tripped and let out a heart wrenching cry.

With a growl, he got up and ran for him. Old or no, logical or no, he had to protect his family even if he knew somewhere in his head that there was no use in trying. The boy was a good as dead with the angry bull much closer to him than he was.

Light came out of the sky. Fire. Fire from above raining down in a flash. All creatures in the vicinity stood stock still at the suddenness of the attack. Then the bull roared and tried to flee, but the shadow from above pursued.

The father reached his son and took him into his arms, checking him over with soft grunts and many facial expressions. The boy assured him he was fine and pointed at the bull.

The creature that had caused it to rain fire had brought the bull down. It sat perched on one of the massive tusks, watching them curiously. Slowly, and right before their eyes, the flying creature disappeared like a mist and left a man standing on the tusk.

The naked man waved them over.

Together, the father and his two sons and the man who could change into a fire creature of the sky harvested every scrap from the bull. After parting ways, his two sons were clearly still excited about seeing the man who was part animal. Man, animal, it didn't matter. All the father knew was that he had saved his son and shared meat with them. And should the opportunity arise, he would like to hunt with him again.

And so began the friendly relations between the two very different, yet very similar peoples.

 _ **Europeans**_

"Emily, you must run," Jane practically threw her daughter up onto the horse's back. "You must run now."

"But–"

"There is no time, my dear, you must flee to the wilderness," she said. Both of them startled at the crash outside and the rising din of the approaching mob.

"It's not fair," Emily sobbed, tears welling in her eyes. She was barely above the age of fourteen with fair hair tied into a plait and outright fear marring her young features. "You haven't done anything!"

Jane sighed and took a steady breath in. "I know. I know it's not fair in the slightest, but you must run. Go into the woods and I will find you."

Another crash, closer this time. The flickering flames of the torches outside danced through the cracks in the old wood of the stable and the cries of 'witch' and 'demon' and 'foul beast' rose chillingly into the night.

"What if you don't come?" Emily asked with a small whimper.

"Then you survive. You are a strong, young lady and I know you can manage," Jane pushed the reins into Emily's hands. "Now go!"

Emily snuck out through the back door of the stable and then barreled away toward the forest. The cold bit at her nose and froze the flow of tears. She rode hard and fast late into the night, as far away as her horse could take her from the only home she'd known.

They didn't stop until she could no longer recognize the arrangement of trees and doubted she could find her way back even if she tried. Exhausted and cold, she drew her winter coat about her firmly. She wasn't hot blooded like her mother, couldn't breathe tongues of fire from under her tongue like her yet. She settled for sprouting rough gray scales, all of them varying in shape and glittering like the snow surrounding her, thick to protect against heat, but also to preserve it when the need arose. She couldn't even properly sprout those without her hands turning into wings.

Emily scrubbed her bare and unshifted hands over her eyes and gritted her teeth. "Father is a bastard."

If he had not turned her mother in for being a witch, this wouldn't have happened. Her mother could not summon beasts anymore than a person could call a herd of deer to their doorstep for supper, she couldn't bind people with spells or cast misfortune upon them. She could only brew stew, not potions. The single thing that set her apart from everyone else was the fact she was born of dragons. Creatures as old as history. Creatures that couldn't summon, cast spells, or brew potions anymore than a human could.

Why were they deserving of death so much more so than the greedy tax collector or the brazen jailers or even her father, who had slept with the young maid barely older than herself and had in turn accused her mother of witchcraft when she called him out on it?

She doubted she'd ever see her mother again. The Church had figured out creative ways of killing even the fiercest of dragons, and the only thing she had left to do was survive. For her mother.

One side besmirched the other into horrible monsters from Hell while the other spoke of a different tale of unfounded hatred. Of the little girl that had to flee from her home while her mother was murdered. Gray scales on modern day Wyverns stand apart from the normal, and carry with them a heavy past.

 _ **Japanese**_

For an emperor to have dragons gracing his palace, it was considered an honor. For an emperor to be a dragon, it was considered a great sign of prosperity for the kingdom. After the civil wars, though, it seemed as if the dragons would never again rule Japan, not until the Tokugawa Shoguns seized control.

A servant bowed deeply to the Serpent dragon slithering down the grand staircase of the palace. "Prince Yoshinobu."

The dragon acknowledged the display with a slight twitch of the thin and wispy whiskers trailing off the end of his narrow snout. "What news do you bring me today?"

The servant stood from his bow. "Reports have come of ships headed for our shores."

Yoshinobu paused in his descent down the stairs. Japan had been isolated since the beginning of the Edo-era, and had benefited from ignoring the rest of the world's problems. As of late, though, the rest of the world seemed intent on making its problems their problems.

"More traders wishing to give us useless trinkets for silk and tea?" he asked and resumed his smooth stride down the stairs.

The servant kept even with him, taking large steps while trying to remain graceful. The afternoon sunlight spilled over the palace, warm and bright. Yoshinobu's hide glowed a deep fiery red with intricate gold patterns on his translucent fins and scale edges. Red on Serpents was a rarely seen color, highly valued and marveled at, and the Tokugawa Shoguns had family lines rich in that color.

"The ships are not merchant ships. They are warships."

Yoshinobu pulled his head up and back. His yellow eyes narrowed.

"American Navy," the servant clarified.

At least they were not Europeans. Americans were on friendlier terms with dragons than their British counterparts, but nonetheless, the thought of nations with histories so full of brutal persecution of dragons arriving on their shores made him uneasy.

"Gather the Samurai. We will see what the Americans have planned," Yoshinobu ordered. "I will be a human for this. No need to have impulsive colonists attacking before we are ready."

The Americans may have been on friendlier terms with dragons, but it didn't matter. They didn't care if the ruling party were dragons or humans. They demanded trade, and once they had their foot in the door, so did many other European nations. The Edo-era, the Golden Age of Japan, was over as was the rule of the Tokugawa Shoguns.

Serpents, regal looking no matter their colors, are still prized when shades of red appear. Prized among their own kind, among humans, and among those who are collectors.

 _ **Australians**_

"Run, run, run!" Billy shoved his younger brother in front of him.

Red dirt clung to their feet, sensation having long since faded from their soles, burnt away by the hot ground. Blue sky met the horizon in every direction. That was the thing about Australia. There was nowhere to run. Just open land.

A gun cracked over their heads. The stock hand was thoroughly livid this time, so livid in fact that Billy had no doubt that if he caught them he was going to kill them. If it was just him it wouldn't be such a big deal, but with his little brother Isaac running alongside him, it was a huge deal.

A splotch of green standing out against the red, arid landscape marked the location of the creek. Before the stock hand had found out who their parents were, back when he was only a mean man, the two boys would sneak off to play in the creek. Now that they had been outed as dragons, something that wasn't a crime in most parts of Australia despite British influence, Billy planned it to be their hiding place.

They slid down the embankment into the mud.

"No, no, no, no, no," Billy breathed out harshly.

The creek was gone. All that was left was a trickle of water. His plan of shifting and paddling away downstream with his brother in tow disintegrated.

"End of the line, you foul bastards!"

Billy, only a fifteen year old himself, shielded his ten year old brother with his body as the stock hand appeared at the top of the tall embankment. His heart pounded wildly in his ribcage. Isaac gripped his arms painfully, shaking.

A shadow swept over them. Shadows didn't often sweep overhead this deep into Australia where it never rained. Dirt kicked up into a whirlwind and Billy tossed his arm over his eyes. The three looked to the opposite side of the gully where the creek used to run as the dust settled.

The stock hand let out an unmanly squawk. For all his rage, he deflated rather quickly and sprinted away back toward the settlement.

Billy wiped the red grit from his face and swallowed thickly. A dark skinned man was on the other embankment, bearing a wooden shield and a spear. White paint lined his face and chest. He was an older Aboriginal man, Billy had seen a few of the native people before.

But it wasn't him that had scared the stock hand. No, it was the dragon he was perched on. Billy had never seen one like it. It wasn't smooth scaled and finned with webbed feet like him and his brother. It wasn't short and heavily scaled like a Drake. It wasn't even bipedal with a sinewy neck like a Wyvern.

"Th-thank you," Billy grunted and cleared his throat.

The dragon was full of dark browns, oranges, and reds with creamy pinkish areas contrasting on its throat and face. It, too, had the white paint on it, even on its massive wings that it spread wide. Double horns on its snout and sharp looking facial features leant to its intimidating visage.

The dragon flicked huge claws towards them, signaling them to come closer. The Aboriginal gestured with his spear when they didn't move.

Billy crawled up the steep embankment and then turned to help Isaac up. They faced the pair curiously.

"You are running because you are dragons?" the dragon asked in a deep voice, sounding like any one of the convicts that he been sent to Australia.

Billy was surprised. He had figured the dragon was Aboriginal, too. He nodded. "Our parents purposely stole so they could be sent here."

The dragon clicked his scorched blue tongue. "But some of the men cannot let go of the old ways."

He shook his head. "Mother died a few years ago, and father got found out yesterday. He told us to run and then he ran, too. What're we going to do? We can't go back to the settlement. All of Mister Simeon's buddies are probably waiting for us."

"You will come with us," the dragon said simply. He shaded them with one wing. A pinkish pattern of stripes and dots that faded to the middle of the wing glimmered above their heads. "I have taken many children to the settlement in Victoria. Dragons are more welcomed there."

"But what about our father?" Billy asked.

"If he is a smart man, he will head south, as well," the dragon said. He bent low to the ground. "Come. We must go before that man returns with more guns. I may be fireproof, but I am not bulletproof."

Billy gave Isaac a boost up and then sat behind him. The Aboriginal man had vacated his position right behind the dragon's head and was crouched further along the back between the wings. Billy followed his lead and pushed him and Isaac down lower.

In one dizzying moment, they were in the air and flapping away to the south. He braved a glance over the edge of the dragon's shoulder. Red land sped by at an amazing speed, going by faster than anything he had ever seen. Isaac laughed.

It was the same all over Australia in the many penal colonies. Legends and tales of dragons carrying children away in the night, or sometimes even the broad daylight, abounded. Sometimes they were children of dragon descent, others were despised mixed races, some were orphans. Billy and Isaac were only two of them, but they made sure the story of the Aboriginal man and the big Cliff dragon was spread.

It was never known if the Cliff dragon had had any children. Only pinkish stripes and dots on the undersides of the wings would tell.

 _ **Modern day Oahu**_

She closed the book sitting on her lap and traced her fingers over the cover. It was a worn old book, having been read many times. She knew all the stories and had merely skimmed through them this time. The thought of real life descendants of the dragons from the tales excited her. In fact, just the mere mention of dragons made her tingle.

Setting the book aside, she stood up from her chair and stretched. The clock on the wall in the living room read five in the morning. She yawned. It had been a long night and was probably going to be a long morning.

She tucked her recently dyed brunette hair behind her ear and walked the length of the hallway. This new place she was bumming in was much nicer than her old apartment. She hadn't even had a hallway before. A coworker had offered it to her after the whole incident six months ago. They hardly stayed up here anymore, anyway, might as well let someone get some use out of it, or so they said. Whatever. It worked for her.

The scent of lavender tickled her nose as she stopped to straighten the sprigs in a vase on a small stand at the end of the hallway. Satisfied, she entered the master bedroom, but left the light off. Though she was sleeping in the guest bedroom, she had wandered around in the master bedroom enough to not need the light to know where everything was.

She inhaled deeply. Fresh air breezed through the window. It smelled like rain. She loved rain. It had such a romantic, yet sad feel to it.

Edging along the empty dresser, she paused to admire the trinkets she had placed on top of it. A stack of photos, some of them which she was very pleased with, sat neatly on the left. She flicked through them, slightly squinting in the low light, smiling at a few and frowning at others. There was a simple black tie next to them that she fingered briefly. A few other odds and ends like a key and a hastily scribbled on piece of paper were there, as well.

Letting her trinkets be, she padded over to the bed and flopped down dramatically on it. The slow turning blades on the ceiling fan churned the air above, spreading the smell of the oncoming storm around the room.

"You know, I've heard that Serpents can sense a storm better than other dragons," she said, her eyes doing lazy circles as she watched the wooden leaf shaped blades go round and round. "That seems kind of weird, doesn't it? You'd think Wyverns and Cliffs would be able to sense atmospheric changes better, you know, since they fly and all that. But then again, Serpents have whiskers and were closely associated with water and storm gods in Japan and other parts of Asia."

Silence met her. Silence except for soft breaths alongside her own.

"I'm not a huge fan of Serpents, but I guess their fins are cool looking," she continued. "Though, a red scaled Serpent would be super cool. Or a jaguar spotted Arboreal. Can you imagine that? Being descended from an Aztec warrior? Or a Drake with turquoise spots like the Egyptian Queen and Pharaoh? You'd be practically royalty."

She turned on her side, staring and smiling at the sleeping man. She traced the outline of the tattoo on his shoulder, fingers moving delicately over his skin.

"I know you're a dragon," she murmured and sat up on her elbow to run her fingers through his soft dark hair. "That's what makes us so perfect. You're a dragon, and I love dragons. It's like a reverse of a Middle Age fairytale, you know? The dragon saves the maiden in distress. And you saved me, so that practically makes this destiny. Did you know that in some cultures if a dragon saved a woman, she became his mate, whether or not she was a dragon? How cool is that?"

Still silence. She sighed to herself as she glanced at her watch. If she wanted to finish, she needed to head back down. She didn't want to leave, she'd rather just lay here next to him the rest of the morning.

"I have to go, but I'll be back soon, I promise," she placed a kiss on his forehead and slid off the bed.

Steve twitched slightly in his drugged sleep.

* * *

 **Mwahahahaha!**

 **Next week on "Dragons", Steve finds himself in the clutches of an admirer who says she's gotten rid of the competition. And she's not lying.**

 **And so it begins. Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	69. Fact 62

**Here we go...**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #62: Dragons are durable, hardy, and have a strong aversion to captivity.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

Brooklyn did not enjoy being up at the butt crack of dawn, but having a baby meant making sacrifices to her sleeping schedule. Up at five thirty to nurse Vega. Check. Accidentally waking Baz up as well. Check. Having to then feed Baz his morning carrot. Check. Not being able to fall back asleep despite Vega having immediately crashed out after getting changed. Check.

She grunted and sipped her coffee. Baz mimicked the grunt from where he was perched on her shoulder.

"What're you grunting about? You went to bed at nine last night," she side eyed her parrot.

The sun hadn't shown its face over the horizon yet, but the sky was going from gray to pale blue at the lovely time of six-thirty in the morning. She sat people watching on the front step of her house. She loved people watching. It was even better when she could actually hear them talking as she added any strange voices to her collection of voices she wanted to try out. Mack often teased her about it, but he was just as bad, coming from a voice acting career, too.

Unfortunately, the neighborhood wasn't exactly a hot spot of active this early in the morning. Or at any time of the day for that matter. Which was why she liked it, it was quiet. The only other person alive at this time in the morning was Evelyn next door, the seventy-eight year old walking around watering her flowers.

"Morning, dear," she greeted.

Brooklyn lifted her coffee mug up in greeting. "Morning."

Looking up and down the street, she spotted the shiny new black Camaro in Danny's driveway. She perked up. Maybe he was home today and she could finally introduce him to Vega. If he had Grace, she could maybe even get a hold of her sister Philly and see if Sophie and Emma wanted to hang out.

She squinted at the second car parked along the curb out front. She scratched her forehead in thought. "Danny has the Camaro, Kono has the red car, one of them has a motorcycle, and then there's a blue truck over there a lot. I don't recall seeing a green Toyota there before, do you?"

Baz bobbed his head up and down rapidly. "Green Toyota, green Toyota."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Brooklyn stood up.

Wearing only black night shorts and a dark hoodie with 80's cartoons all over it, she second-guessed going over there. Eventually, she shrugged and followed the sidewalk out to the street and crossed it. It's not like she was in her underwear and curiosity was burning her. But what if Danny was asleep? Hmm. She paused again. If it didn't sound like anyone was up, she wouldn't knock. She nodded to herself and continued walking. Man, she was snoopy and she knew it.

There was the flicker of someone walking around in the house.

"Hah, knew you wouldn't be asleep, either," she muttered.

It was quiet in the house, but someone was definitely up. She knocked on the door.

"Knock knock, who's there?" Baz crowed.

She glared at him. "Why are you such a creep?"

"Give me kisses," he proceeded to make smooching sounds at her and nibbled on her lip.

The door opened and Brooklyn definitely did not recognize the woman standing there. She wasn't native Hawaiian like Kono and didn't look right to be Steve's girlfriend despite the Caucasian complexion and brunette hair. She was shorter and more compact than his girlfriend. And plus, why would Danny's friends even be over at his house at the butt crack of dawn, anyway?

"Can I help you?" the woman questioned.

Brooklyn raised a brow. "Hey. I'm Danny's neighbor. I was just checking in on him. Hadn't seen him in a while."

The woman shifted and pushed a few loose strands of hair back under a bobby pin. "Oh. Well, he's asleep right now."

"And you are?" she asked.

"You know," she said, fingers flitting over the other bobby pins holding the loose hair not pulled back in the short ponytail. "I'm his girlfriend. Had a sleepover last night, if you know what I mean."

Brooklyn furrowed her brows and was about to ask if she was Gabby when Baz interrupted.

"Danger, Will Robinson, danger! I smell something fishy," he squawked and flipped his head almost completely upside down. His gray feathers ruffled out at odd angles. "Lucy, you've got a lot of 'splainin' to do! Go ahead, make my day."

Heat flushed her cheeks as the other woman's eyes widened and she cupped her hand over her parrot's head to stifle the outburst. "Sorry, that's just Baz having diarrhea of the mouth. It was nice to meet you and I'm so sorry for disturbing your morning."

Brooklyn hurried away, ready to strangle the bird on her shoulder, who was still muttering under his breath, "Jeepers, creepers. Like, zoinks, man."

"Seriously, why are you like this?"

"Super freak, super freak, she's super freaky," he sang out raucously. He pivoted on her shoulder to look back at the house. "Red alert, red alert! You calling me a liar? I ain't calling you a truther!"

She glanced heavenward for strength to deal with him and the embarrassment he'd caused.

* * *

Steve peeled his eyes open. Not all the way. He couldn't get that far. He stared for a while, waiting until the ceiling fan above the bed came into partial focus. It was more of a blur going around in circles. A cool breeze from an open window wafted in and he inhaled the smell of rain. Catherine must have opened it up sometime through the night. Got too hot and uncomfortable.

He grunted as he adjusted his head on the pillow. He wasn't that comfortable, either, and as his brain attempted to wake up more he felt worse. His mouth was dry and cottony, his limbs were practically filled with lead, and his head pounded. He clenched his eyes closed. No way did he drink enough last night to be this hungover.

His brows furrowed. He'd had two beers and a glass of wine, but nothing had any Devil's Tongue in it. He shouldn't be hungover at all, not unless his liver had decided to up and quit on him.

Hold on. He forced his eyes open, blinking to clear the fog away. There. Right there. His ceiling fan didn't have the leaf shaped blades. That wasn't his fan. He started to move, and then couldn't.

"Wha…?" he swiveled his head back.

That wasn't his headboard, either. This wasn't even his bed, or his room. More of the fog cleared and he flexed one arm. A metal cuff bit into his wrist. He shook his head, now recognizing the leaden feeling for what it was: drugs. He'd been drugged.

He craned his head upward to get a better look at his situation. The room was lit with a soft gray light coming from the early morning sun and his eyes had cleared enough to see it in detail. It was sparse, only a dresser on the wall opposite of the bed along with a door into a hallway, an empty closet to his right, and a dark entryway to his left that may have led to a bathroom. By his estimate it was big enough to probably be the master bedroom of a moderately sized house.

Steve had been trapped many times in his life. Taken hostage by Wo Fat, pinned under rocks in a tunnel collapse, almost crushed under the foot of a muddy gene dragon. There were worse things he could have woken up to besides his hands cuffed to the bars on the iron headboard of the bed and a separate cuff on each ankle keeping his legs down.

All he had to do was shift just enough to bust at least one of the cuffs on his wrists and then he'd be free.

A board creaked.

He glanced at the door leading into the hallway and frowned.

"Oh, you're awake," the shorter, dark haired woman said. "I thought you'd be out a little longer, but I guess that dragon metabolism of yours burned through the sedative faster than I thought it would."

"Who are you?" Steve asked. He remained calm just as he had been taught, though his fingers twitched with anticipation.

A moment of hurt flashed across her face and was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. She walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. "It's me, Kaitlin."

He twisted his hands, trying to judge the best angle to break the cuffs when he shifted. "Look, Kaitlin, I don't remember meeting you."

"Sure you do, you silly goose," she patted his chest affectionately and sent a chill up his spine. "The bomb was about to go off and I couldn't hurtle down the stairs, so you scooped me up in your arms and ran out of the building with me right before it exploded, remember?"

He hadn't expected an answer he actually did remember. "You were the woman with the ankle brace on, from the top floor of the apartment complex Bishop rigged with explosives."

"That was me!" she smiled at him. "See, you do remember. That day is totally seared into my memory. It was like that movie _Big Fish_ when he finally meets the girl of his dreams and time slows to a stop, and then it speeds up again and it's hard to catch up with it."

Steve nodded. He could see where this was going and knew he'd have to tread carefully. "I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to talk to you. I had a lot of work to do after the building came down. But I see you got your ankle brace off. That's good."

She straightened her leg out on the bed with a chuckle. "Yeah. You know, it was my own dumb fault. I just kind of tripped over something and that was it. I guess we're both kind of danger prone. Did you get the flowers I sent you when you broke your arm?"

His hairs rose. The last time he'd had a cast on had been five months ago after Jupiter had broken his arm. His team had teased him about his secret admirer with the odd bouquet of lavender, honeysuckle, and roses, but he'd thought nothing of it.

"I cut them all myself. Well, except for the first bouquet I sent to your office before you broke your arm, those were from a flower shop," she said. "I tried asking what kind of flowers you liked in an email, but you're absolutely terrible about answering those. Seventeen emails, Steven, seventeen. You didn't answer one."

Her voice cooled from the bubbly warmth she'd had a few seconds ago.

Keep her talking, keep her happy. If all else failed, he'd shift and deal with her that way. "I'm sorry. I don't have time to answer all my emails, with the high octane job and the high profile crimes the team handles. But I did get your flowers."

"Yeah, yeah, you're busy, I get it," she said. Her fingers flitted up to adjust the bobby pins holding her hair back and looked at him pointedly. "You know, the least you could do is say you like my hair. I used to be a blonde, but I figured you liked brunettes better, since _she_ was a brunette."

His heart fluttered. "Catherine?"

She nodded tersely.

Oh, no. Catherine had been in town and had stayed with him last night. "Where is she?"

"Out of the picture," Kaitlin said with a certain finality. "You know, she was no good for you. Always gone, barely around, and then did you know she was hanging out with another guy? Oh yeah, another tall, dark, and handsome guy called Billy. Trust me, I'm not going to step out on you like that."

"Kaitlin, listen to me," he said sharply. Going along with her and trying to keep her happy was over if Catherine's life was on the line. "Let me go and tell me what you did with her."

"Let you go? Please," she waved a hand at him. "I love your protective nature and all that fire in your bones, but I'm not stupid. I know you'll run. Run right back to _her_ or go tattle on me to _him_."

Steve stilled. Him? Who was 'him'? She said it with an equal distaste as she did when referring to Catherine, and there was only one 'him' he could think of that she could be talking about.

"What did you do to Danny?" he questioned in a low growl.

She wagged a finger at him. "See, your girl may have been gone a lot, but you're super distracted with that guy. He's always over at your place with his kid and she calls you Uncle Steve, and you two are like brothers or whatever, but I don't like it. He consumes all of your time like a black hole. If it's going to be me and you, I had to get him out of the way, too."

He jerked on the cuffs, fully intent on shifting now.

Kaitlin grabbed his bicep and leaned closer, but not close enough to headbutt. "I'll give you some time to get over it. But don't even think about breaking those cuffs, because I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"What did you do with them? Where are they?" he barked. Scales sprouted along his forearms and his shins, bones shifting under the surface of his skin.

"Those are titanium alloy, you silly goose!" she backhanded him in the ribs. "I did my homework on you. I've been watching you for months, I know you're a dragon and I know that you were a Navy SEAL and could bust out of normal cuffs, so I had to upgrade. Now, don't hurt yourself."

She slid off the bed and stalked away into the hallway. Steve glared at the cuffs encircling his wrists above his head. She wasn't bluffing. They looked like the kind the Ranch used and the kind that had been on his team from their time at the underground fight club. Shattering the bones in his wrists and ankles would get him nowhere.

Baring his teeth at the ceiling fan, he started to work on Plan B while casting thoughts to his girlfriend and partner and praying that Kaitlin wasn't as thorough as she thought she was.

* * *

He flinched as a drop of water landed on his cheek. Another drop landed on his forehead. He let them fall on him for a while longer, not wanting to wake up fully to stop them. Not until one landed in his ear with an unpleasant coldness.

Danny groaned and wiped his face on his arm. Holy crap, he was stiff. And damp. He peeked out of one eye and saw dirt and plants crawling upwards in a steep slope. Both eyes shot open. His lifted his head from the ground. The sudden movement sent fire through his shoulder and ribs on the side that had collided with the tree stump sticking out of the ground, but worse still was the feeling of teetering and then losing his precarious balance.

Feet first, he skidded away down the muddy slope. His addled and barely awake brain panicked. He frantically grabbed at any tussock of grass or root sticking out, but his bound wrists made it difficult, not to mention his left arm didn't want to cooperate fully. Becoming more awake and less in a haze by the millisecond, he finally shifted out his claws and dug them into the dirt.

His descent wasn't slowed enough to stop him from sliding over the edge of a precipice. His free fall was less than half a second before the ground was underneath him, his back hitting it with a heavy thump. Winded, he stared at the ashen sky for a few painful moments. His left side pulsated with each rapid beat of his heart. Finally, he was able to suck in a full breath through clenched teeth.

"What a hell of a way to wake up on a Monday morning," he hissed.

Carefully, he rolled onto his right side and pulled himself upright. Slow, steady breaths. In and out. While his heart started to return to its normal pace, he worked on his breathing and took stock of himself. A few ribs were either bruised or cracked on his left side. His left shoulder burned, but not quite as intensely as it would have if it was out of socket. He probably had a muscle or nerve pinched or a tear to a ligament. Tiny cuts littered his arms, legs, and face and mud was smeared all over.

And he was in his boxers and a t-shirt. Fantastic. That last clue at least told him something: whatever had happened had gone down at night after he'd went to sleep.

He closed his eyes with a wince. The pounding in his head wasn't coming from any particular spot like he'd been hit, so he went with drugs as the next candidate. They must have been pretty strong to have knocked him for a loop long enough for him to be dumped in the jungle.

"This gives a whole new meaning to the fact that Mondays suck," he mumbled and opened his eyes, grateful the sun wasn't out to blind him.

Walls of rock and dirt rose up on either side of him, standing only about six and a half to seven feet tall. The bottom of the gully was fifteen feet wide and currently only had a small stream running through the center. Danny frowned as he focused in on the speckles of rain landing on him. He wasn't a nature guy, but he'd lay down money on a bet that this gully probably filled with water when the higher elevations got rain. Which was coming down. Right now.

Unsteadily, he forced himself to his feet. Mud squished between his toes, cool and sticky. He glanced around and shivered. Not from the cool and the damp, because being a fire breather it took a lot more than this to lower his core temperature, but from what he had seen once he was on his feet.

Avoiding rocks and other rough bits he had no urge to step on, he navigated his way further down the gully to the other body. Bodies didn't make his gut churn as bad now as when he had been a rookie, they only did that when it was particularly gruesome or he recognized the person. Which he did in this case.

He kneeled next to her and pressed his fingers under her jaw, letting out a shaky sigh when he felt a pulse. "Catherine? Hey, come on, babe, wake up."

She muttered softly, but didn't wake. Glad that she showed some sign of life, he quickly checked her over for injuries. She was bound the same way he was with her hands in front of her, leaves and twigs were tangled in her loose brunette hair, mud was smeared all over, too, and she was in a tank top and short shorts, the kind he assumed she went to bed in. Lightly, he touched the congealed blood on the cut on her forehead and grimaced at the bruise starting to blossom around her right eye. Steve was going to kill someone.

He froze. Steve. He cast a look at Catherine and then got to his feet again, taking a second as the ground swayed under his feet. He shook the dizzy spell off and walked a few paces further down the gully.

"Steve?" he called, dismayed and frustrated at the hoarse, dry quality of his voice. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and licked his lips. "Steve? Steve?"

"Danny?"

He turned around and hurried back over to Catherine. She squinted up at him and then raised her hands to her forehead, letting out a long, low groan.

"What happened?" she asked after she took a breath in.

"I was going to ask you the same question," he said. He offered his hand the best he could to her as she tried to sit up. Fire danced down his arm from his shoulder. "I don't remember what happened last night, but somehow we managed to both wind up in our pajamas outside in the jungle. I mean, I had some wild nights in college, but that usually took a lot more Devil's Tongue, huh?"

Catherine did a slow sweep of the area with her eyes at half-mast. "I don't remember, either. We were…Steve and I went to bed a little after eleven and then…here I am."

"Great. Same story here, minus the going to sleep with Steve part. Went to sleep at home around the same time and woke up here. Do you remember what happened to Steve? I doubt he would've let someone walk out of the house with you without a fight, and if we were drugged I'm sure he was, too," he gestured loosely to the surrounding jungle and bit back a groan when his left arm was dragged along with his right one in the gesture.

"No, I don't remember. You're right, though, if this headache is anything to go by, we were all probably drugged, but judging by where we are and him not being here, I'd say he was the target and we were collateral damage. Or insurance. Are you okay?" Catherine asked, obviously having caught the face he'd made despite her barely open eyes.

"Peachy. Fan-freaking-tastic. This is how I love to start my week. Nothing beats getting drugged, kidnapped, and tossed down a cliff in the middle of the jungle," he groused.

He brought his bound wrists up to his face and hooked his teeth under the rope. Partially shifting teeth was no big deal to him, it only became a big deal if he wanted the big boar like ones in the back to come out. For a flimsy rope? All he needed were the sharp and hardened front ones to chew through it. Once it snapped, it was easily unraveled.

"Care to help a lady out?" Catherine gave him a crooked grin underlined with pain and held her wrists up.

She rubbed her bruised and raw wrists once the last of the rope fell away. Now that he was free as well, Danny tucked his left arm against his side and waved his right hand around vividly at the hill he had slid down. "So, what's the plan, Rambo-ette? Do we try to climb out or do we follow it downstream? Are you sure you don't remember what happened to Steve?"

She looked upstream with a pensive face. The rain was starting to go from a light sprinkle to a drizzle, and the trickle of water running through the middle of the gully was turning to a chocolatey brown and growing wider.

"Look at the mountain," she said and got to her feet. He caught her elbow as she almost went back down. "Thanks. But you see how gray and dark it is up there? It's getting a lot more rain than down here, and it's all going to run off into gullies like this. We need to get to higher ground."

"Well, if I have to be stuck out in the jungle during a flashflood, at least I'm stuck with someone who knows what they're doing. Come on, I'll give you a boost," he squelched through the thickening mud over to the wall. Catherine followed closely in his footsteps.

"You know, they teach survival courses for the air paramedics, cops, and pretty much anyone who wants to sign up. A week of learning how the nature side of the island works might do you some good," she said.

"I think I'm going to pass. Every time I go into nature, whether it's on the job or for supposed fun, something bad always inevitably happens. I usually blame Steve because he's close by and it's his fault in the first place, but I'm starting to think it's Navy people in general. They're bad luck for me," he said. He laced his fingers together in a stirrup and mentally prepared himself for the pain he was about to feel.

"Are you implying this is my fault?" Catherine raised a brow at him with a small smirk tugging at her lips. She placed her barefoot in his hands and braced one hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, you know what they say, if the shoe fits, wear it," he grunted and hefted her up.

His shoulder lit up like Times Square and gray edged his vision. He panted and blinked a few times once she was up top. Now came the part he hadn't thought through. How was he going to get up there?

A cold, wet sensation slithered under his heels. His eyes widened. The water was flowing faster and the stream had almost spread to the edges of the gully. It was now or never, he'd rather face the fire in his shoulder than deal with a raging torrent of water.

"Come on, Danny," Catherine urged, peeking over the edge at him. She held out her hand.

Gathering himself, he inhaled deeply and then jumped. Using the long, meaty claws he had sprouted, he dug them into the ground like grappling hooks, using the backwards facing scutes on the underside of his forearms to keep anchored. Catherine grabbed him around the middle and helped pull him out of the gully.

They both flopped on their backs, heaving for breath and staring at the rain coming down from above.

"Okay," Danny huffed.

"Okay," Catherine echoed. "Next step of the plan?"

He worried his lower lip. "We find Steve."

"Yeah, I thought that was the next step."

* * *

The office was extremely quiet. Chin had noticed that when Steve and Danny were gone it tended to be that way. Though, it actually had a low volume level if only one of them were present. But get them together? Quiet was not an option. That was part of the reason why he liked to get to work before them.

Chin's precious quiet was broken by his phone. He set it on the edge of the smart table. "Lieutenant Kelly."

 _"_ _Uncle Chin?"_

He glanced at the name of the screen and smiled. "Hey, Grace, how's it?"

 _"_ _I'm okay. Um, is Danno with you?"_

His spine stiffened and the hairs on his arm rose, but he maintained his calm and spoke slowly and evenly. "No. Are you okay?"

 _"_ _Yeah, I'm okay. Mom's taking me to school. But Danno was supposed to pick me up for early morning cheer practice, but he never showed up and I tried calling him like five times and he didn't answer."_

A list of completely normal and harmless reasons why Danny didn't answer his phone ran through his head even as he called up the tracking system on the smart table. "Did you try Uncle Steve? You know how Danno sometimes forgets to charge his phone through the night and charges it in the car on his way to work."

That wouldn't explain why he hadn't picked her up for cheer practice, though.

 _"_ _I tried calling him twice and he didn't answer, either. I even tried Auntie Cath. No one's answering, and so I got worried and called you and was so happy you answered. What's wrong, Uncle Chin? Are they okay?"_

"I'm sure they're fine, Grace," he said smoothly as a scowl settled on his face. Two dots were side by side in the same house and the third dot was off on its own in its respective house. The three of them should be at home if their phone locations were anything to go by.

 _"_ _I have to go. We just pulled up to the school. Can you please figure out what's going on? I'm really worried. Danno always answers when I call, and he never forgets about cheer practice."_

"I'm going to check it out, but I wouldn't worry too much. Have a good day at school," Chin said and waited until he heard the click of the call ending before he headed over to the firearms locker and dialed a different number. "Duke? I want a unit at McGarrett's house and at Williams' house. No, I don't know what's going on, but something's not right. Yeah, meet you there. Mahalo."

He had told Grace not to worry because that was his job.

* * *

The cuffs may have been made of titanium alloy, but the bedframe was not. Steve kept his anger under wraps for now and instead set his mind to analyzing the metal headboard he was cuffed to, looking at the bars and where they attached to the frame. The master bedroom was clean and decently kept, so it was no wonder the bed was the same. The sheets were soft underneath him and the pillowcase smelled fresh like laundry detergent, and unfortunately the bedframe was not rusted at all. He couldn't just wiggle or break the bar loose.

Carefully, he shifted his claws out and grasped the bar the cuffs were bound around. He grunted and attempted to bend it with all his might, but his leverage while horizontal on the bed was bad. With a frustrated snarl, he scratched at the bar. If he had Danny's claws he may have been able to do something about it, but as it was, his climbing claws were useless against the metal bedframe.

He exhaled sharply through his nose and looked at his legs. It was the same story.

"The only easy day was yesterday," he whispered and retracted the scales and claws.

At least there was no cattle prod, no shift inhibiting drugs, no knives or guns pointed at him, no waterboarding, none of the usual torture devices. He could've done worse than waking up in his boxers handcuffed to a bed with a stalker in the house. But he didn't know what she had done to Catherine and Danny, and that's what was eating him.

The cuffs chafed as he twisted his wrists in them again. They were tight. Not tight enough to constrict blood flow, but tight. He could break his thumb on his left hand, maybe slip out of the cuff with enough force. Ashamedly, he realized he should have figured out how to slip out of restraints mid-shift while the bones were moving. It was a tricky maneuver to get down and he'd only ever heard of it being done. He'd never seen it for himself.

If the keyhole wasn't so tiny he'd dig his claw into it, but he'd need something much thinner and smaller to finagle the lock open.

The same board from before creaked. It was a reliant board that warned him of Kaitlin's arrival before she set foot in the room. He glared at her while interrogation tactics surged through his head. Just because he was the one restrained didn't mean he couldn't do the questioning.

"It's a nice upgrade from the apartment," he said after a moment of debating what tactic to use. "Much bigger."

"You like it?" a smile flickered over her face. She crossed her arms over her chest and he caught sight of the small black bag she was holding in one hand. "I think I'd paint this room more of a sky blue than a beige, but that's just me. The living room has a nice green on the walls and the kitchen is, like, a mind blowing orange. It about seared my eyes out of their sockets when I first walked in."

He nodded, a bit irked that she didn't say anything about where the place was or how she had acquired it. If she had been living in those crappy apartments before, he doubted she could afford a nice home like this. As for the location, he knew he was out of the city. He could hear no noises other than the rain and breeze outside the open window.

"What were you doing in those apartments if you had this set off to the side? It's much more peaceful than where that complex was," he said in an effort to prompt something out of her.

"This is a more…recent development after the explosion," she said and sat on the edge of the bed.

Steve looked at her. Examined her may have been the better term for it. He drank in every detail for anything that would give him an edge. She was short, maybe Danny's height. Compact with rounded curves on her hips and a similarly rounded face shape. Probably in her mid-twenties. Long lashes sat over her blue eyes. He suddenly wondered why he had become a target. She was pretty and he didn't think she would have to kidnap a boyfriend to get one.

His eyes trailed up to her dark brunette hair pulled back in a short ponytail and then settled on the bobby pins holding the loose hair back. He drew in a deep breath.

"Kait–"

"What have you been doing?" she questioned.

He followed her line of sight to the bar behind his head. She must have noticed the scratches on it from his earlier attempt to get loose.

"Seriously, you have too much vim and vigor, you know that?" she hissed and sighed dramatically, and then dug into the small black bag. She pulled out a syringe and a vial. "That's one of the things I love about you, but you're going to have to learn that there's a time and a place for that, and this is neither the time nor the place."

"Kaitlin, no," he growled. He snorted when she brushed him off. At least, if she planned on giving him an intravenous injection then she would have to move his arm and give him an opportunity to get loose.

But, much to his increasing frustration, she slid the needle into the vein on his ankle. A warm, fuzzy sensation crawled up his leg and he gritted his teeth. It was move now or forever hold his peace as a captive.

He let the muscles in his back loosen and he relaxed back on the bed with a goofy grin slowly growing on his face. "I was going to say the gray light this morning makes your eyes shine."

"What?" She set the syringe on the nightstand and scooted closer to him. "Really? Because regular sun makes my eyes hurt. I always have to wear sunglasses when I go out."

"They're stunning, like the ocean after a storm," he said quietly and sleepily, half-shuttering his eyes. "And your dark hair complements them well."

Her eyes narrowed briefly in suspicion, but she let the flattering words win out. She leaned in closer. Steve flashed a not quite full trademark smile at her. The drugs left him a little breathless and he used it to his advantage.

"I don't know why I ignored you in the first place," he murmured. "You're beautiful."

She pressed her lips against his. He returned the kiss, pushing upwards and then pulling his head further back, reeling her in closer. He winced as she got a little too vigorous and bit his lip. Just a bit closer. His fingertips brushed her hair.

Kaitlin cupped his face in her hands and sat back. Red flushed her cheeks and ears, and her eyes sparkled, her pupils dilating in size. Steve smirked and let his head drop to the pillow, closing his eyes and ignoring the unwanted hands on his bare chest.

"I…uh…need to go check on something," she stuttered and got off the bed. He had her very flustered. "I'll be back before you know I'm gone, and we'll have an encore of that, okay? Yeah. Wow."

The board creaked as she left the bedroom and he lifted his head just to make sure. The drugs were warm and fuzzy in his veins, but not that warm and fuzzy. He shook off the feeling of her lips on his and instead focused on the prize from his impromptu lip lock: a bobby pin.

* * *

Kaitlin drew her light jacket around her and zipped it up against the steady drizzle of rain. Her heart was still fluttering from the kiss. A rosy color tinted her cheeks as she thought back to it over and over as she bounded down the steps on the back porch of the house. She couldn't help the grin that overtook her face.

"Awesome," she breathed.

She had originally gone in the bedroom to sedate him again so she could take a walk through the jungle down to the gully. She had a feeling he was refusing to accept that the other two were out of the way for good, and she had finally concluded that she needed proof. Phone in hand, she planned to take pictures to show him.

After that kiss, though, she wanted to make sure for herself. Make sure they really were out of the way. The crossbow in her hand was borrowed, but she knew how to use one. She'd grown up hunting deer with one, and once she had moved to the island she'd hunted boar with one. And a crossbow was easier to get a hold of than a gun.

With the grace and ease of a girl raised in nature, she navigated the rough terrain with only one purpose: to make sure she was the only one left in Steve's life.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", if Kaitlin can't have him, then no one can.**

 **Ehehehehe, I didn't mean for it to be two parts, but that's just how the cookie crumbles sometimes. Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	70. Fact 62 Part II

**And here is the rest of the crumbly cookie. Enjoy!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #62: Dragons are durable, hardy, and have a strong aversion to captivity.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

 **Part II**

Brooklyn glanced out her kitchen window as she poured her third cup of coffee. Her mug almost slipped out of her hand.

"911, what is your emergency?" Baz whistled, eyeing the red and blue lights outside of Danny's place.

She hurried over to the front door and shoved her feet into her flipflops with Baz riding in the hood of her hoodie.

"Where're you speeding off to?" her husband asked from where he was sat on the couch.

"There're cops at Danny's place. I was just over there this morning," she said.

She pulled open the door and rushed out to the end of the cement path up to the house. There hadn't been a parade of sirens to announce the arrival of the cops, and now that she was looking closer there was only one patrol car, a blue car, and a CSU unit. That meant there was a crime scene.

Looking both ways on the quiet street, she jogged across and walked toward his house nervously. So far she hadn't seen a body bag, but she wasn't sure how long the police had been there. After she'd gone over earlier that morning and had been thoroughly embarrassed by Baz, she had screwed around on the piano for the next hour or so just to get the heat out of her face.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, you can't go any farther," a young Hawaiian man in a uniform held a hand up to her to keep her away from the yellow tape.

"What happened?" she asked, dismayed at the crack in her voice.

"I can't divulge that information to you," he said.

Brooklyn scowled at him. "Come on, man, I'm his neighbor."

He shook his head.

She looked around him at the house. She'd think if something had happened to Danny one of his coworkers would be there, but she didn't see the little red car or the blue truck or the motorcycle. There was just the shiny new black Camaro.

A few drops of rain dotted her face from the encroaching gray clouds. Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned to go back toward her house where she could see Mack standing in the open doorway with Vega in his arms.

"Hey, you're Brooklyn, right? Danny's neighbor?"

She pivoted on her heel. A Hawaiian man that she sort of recalled having seen over here before was walking through the front yard toward her. Aha! He was the motorcycle guy.

"Yeah. You're one of Danny's friends?" she asked, though she couldn't put a name to his face.

He pushed under the yellow tape and nodded at the officer standing guard. He held his hand out to her. "I'm Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly. And yes, I'm one of Danny's friends."

She exhaled in relief. "Finally. What happened here? This guy wouldn't tell me anything."

Chin set his hands on his hips with a steady sigh. "I got a call from Grace this morning. Danny's missing."

"What?" her eyes bulged.

"Missing his marbles," Baz said and crawled out of her hood onto her shoulder.

She had the strong urge to backhand him. "Oh my god, would you please shut up, you nincompoop. When did he go missing?"

"He was supposed the pick Grace up for early morning cheer practice and never showed," Chin said, ignoring the parrot.

"Is Gabby missing, too?" she asked.

He gave her a funny look. "What makes you ask that?"

Brooklyn sidled uneasily and stuffed her hands into the kangaroo pouch on the hoodie. "I was up early and being a snoop, so I came over her to see if he was going to be around today, but ran into Gabby instead. That was around six-thirty this morning."

The confused and disturbed look sank deeper into his face and made her stomach churn. "Brooklyn, Danny broke up with Gabby."

Her face paled. "The woman at the door said she was his girlfriend and I just assumed –"

"Super freak, super freak, she's super freaky," Baz danced like a loon on her shoulder.

"Tell me everything. What did you see? What did the woman look like?" Chin asked and dug his pocketbook out.

She described the woman the best she could with Baz throwing in a few unhelpful details, but he did contribute in one way. "Green Toyota, green Toyota, green Toyota. Don't do drugs, kids."

Brooklyn massaged her forehead. "There was a green Toyota here earlier, a smaller one like a Corolla or something like that. But I have no clue what he's talking about with the 'don't do drugs' thing."

Chin jotted down the details and then arched a brow at the muttering parrot. "Grace told me he's a smart bird."

"A smart aleck bird, maybe," she grumbled with a dirty look at him.

"Was he with you this morning?"

"Yeah," she grimaced and scrubbed at her face with one hand. "And he absolutely freaked out at the woman. I've never had him do that before. He's usually pretty chill. Man, I should've known something was wrong. This little turd knew."

"What did he do? Or say?" he asked.

She couldn't believe her bird was becoming a better eye witness than his snoopy owner. "He started yelling something like 'danger, Will Robinson' and that he smelled something fishy, and then he started quoting everything. Ricky Ricardo, Dirty Harry, Rick James. I seriously just thought he had diarrhea of the mouth."

Chin tucked his notebook back in his pocket and pointed at Baz. "Believe it or not, I think he may have been onto something. We found a small slit in the screen on the bedroom window and no signs of a struggle, which leads me to believe Danny must have been knocked out with gas and then dragged out of the house sometime during the night."

A lightbulb appeared above her head. "And birds are sensitive to gas. Damn it, why can't you ever just straight up tell me anything?"

Baz turned his head on its side and waved at Chin with one foot. "Pretty boy, give me kisses."

"No, don't give him kisses. You don't need kisses," she hissed at the bird. She sighed when he nibbled her lip instead and then giggled shyly like a school girl. "Does any of this help, or are we more of a useless comedy duo?"

"If it weren't for you two snooping around this morning, we wouldn't have a description of the woman and her car," Chin said. He smiled softly at her and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, which Baz lightly nibbled. "We're going to find them."

"Them?" she furrowed her brows.

He nodded, but didn't divulge anymore. He walked over to the blue Traverse parked on the curb and she shuffled back over to her house in bewilderment. Next time, she wasn't going to give Baz so much flak for acting like a nutcase.

* * *

Steve cursed sharply as the bobby pin almost slipped out of his fingers. If it did and it fell between the wall and the bed, he was screwed. Holding still for a moment to make sure his fingers weren't going to start shaking again, he breathed deeply and slowly. The warm and fuzzy drugs were making it difficult, but not impossible. He had a feeling she had wanted to put him under and misjudged how much to give him.

He popped the rubber end of the bobby pin off with his thumb nail. With much twisting and finagling, he managed to dig the end into the keyhole on the cuffs. Relying on feel rather than sight, he bent the metal appropriately and fidgeted with the lock.

"This is why it's good to know these things, Danny," he muttered.

What had Kaitlin done with them? A slurry of emotions flooded his veins and he had to pause in his lockpicking. He didn't remember much of what had led to him waking up cuffed to the bed, like how he had been kidnapped, though, if he had to guess, he had been gassed. He was a light sleeper, he would have heard someone prowling through his house if he had been conscious. Plus, he would have heard someone disable the alarm. If he had been gassed, that meant Catherine had been gassed, too.

But where was she? Kaitlin seemed relatively careful and he didn't think she would leave a dead body at the house, but he also had this horrible sinking feeling that there was no reason for her to keep Catherine or Danny alive. Why had Danny gotten sucked into this, anyway?

Shaking his head and licking his dry lips, he went back to wiggling the bobby pin. The what ifs would only end with him in a never ending loop.

There was a small click.

Steve pulled his wrist loose and sat up. The room tilted precariously and he reeled for a few seconds, waiting for the black to fade from his vision. It finally cleared and he had the cuffs on his ankles picked in under a minute. He braced himself on the dresser while feeling returned to his legs. His eyes caught on the items there. A stack of photos of him and his team, not just him, Catherine, and Danny. There were photos of Chin, Kono, Grace, Kamekona, Max, and a few other people he associated with. The black tie he had been looking for to wear to the Draco concert was folded neatly beside the photos. A copy of his house key and the code to his alarm scribbled out on a piece of paper were next to them as well. He shivered involuntarily. How many times had she been in his house?

He froze as he heard a car door shut.

On stealthy feet, he slipped out of the bedroom down the hallway into the living room. The better option may have been to run into the jungle, but seeing as it wasn't just his life on the line, he wanted to know where to start looking for his girlfriend and his partner. He doubted Kaitlin was a fighter and felt that grabbing a knife from the kitchen was overkill. Besides, with the cuffs off he could shift at will.

He deflated when there was a knock. He scowled and his mind kicked into overdrive. What were the chances it was the UPS man this far out in the jungle? It may not have been Kaitlin, but that didn't mean it was a friend. He still wasn't sure if she was working alone. It appeared that way, but he could be wrong. It may have been a partner.

The door knob jiggled and the door creaked open.

Steve lunged and wrapped his arms around the gun wielding man's neck. An elbow connected solidly with his solar plexus and the man dropped out of his choke hold to face him. Both of them dropped their defensive stances.

"Chin?" Steve questioned, sweat trickling off every tensed up muscle. He shook his head in an effort to get rid of the remnants of the drugs.

"You attack all your friends when they come to save you?" Chin holstered his gun and eyed him. "Looks like you don't even need me. What's going on?"

"How'd you find me?" he glanced out of the front door and then shut it. He still didn't know where Kaitlin was.

"Danny's neighbor Brooklyn. She gave me a description of the woman she saw at Danny's place this morning and her vehicle. I matched the description to the owner of a green Toyota Corolla and came up with this as a mailing address."

"Kaitlin."

"I take it you know who she is," Chin said.

Steve scrubbed his hands over his face. "Yeah. She's a big fan of me. Sounds like she's been stalking me for months. Was Danny at his place?"

Chin shook his head. "Gone. Looks like he was gassed and dragged out of the house."

"Same thing happened to Cath and me. We've got to find Kaitlin and get her to tell us what she did with them. She told me she got them out of the way," he gave Chin an easy to read look.

"Her car's still here, so she must be around," Chin pulled the curtain on the window back and pointed at the green Toyota parked in front of the house. "The pharmacy she works at said she was at work yesterday, but never showed today. Guess we know why."

He ran his fingers through his hair. "She said she had to check on something. I'm thinking Danny and Cath are somewhere on the property."

Chin gestured for him to follow him outside onto the front porch. He kept his gun aimed low but at the ready while Steve remained on high alert, glancing around while they made their way to the Traverse. Chin lifted the trunk lid and tossed a t-shirt at him.

"Sorry, brah, but you used the last pair of sweats I kept in here," he said and dug into another box to pull out a pair of shoes.

Steve slipped the shirt on over his head and sat on the bumper to slide the spare pair of tennis shoes on. It had become almost a running gag amongst the team, all of them having a stash of clothes in their cars for Steve since he went through a lot from his shifting. No one could deny they came in handy, though.

"What're you doing up here by yourself? If it was me, Danny would've chewed me out over the horror movie rule," he said.

"Duke knows where I am, but there were two addresses listed, so I volunteered for this one," Chin explained with a small grin and handed him his backup weapon. "I'll call the cavalry in. Where do you want to start looking?"

He looked up at the tree canopy, blinking away raindrops that splashed on his eyelashes. Now that he was outside, he had a chance to really look around, and he realized he had been right initially. They were out in the middle of the jungle. The driveway was a long one that was gradually turning from dirt to mud as the rain continued to come down, and trees surrounded them on all sides.

"Let's start behind the house and move on from there," he said. "I may be able to pick up a scent trail."

He waited while Chin called and relayed the information to Duke, and then they started moving. Feeling phenomenally better with a friend at his back, he led the way around the house, keeping an eye out for any sheds or cellars. They stopped at the top of the wooden stairs leading into the jungle. The absolute massiveness of the area they had to search was overwhelming.

A slender indigo tongue slid between his teeth and then he pressed it to the roof of his mouth. The scenting ability of a full blooded Arboreal or Serpent hadn't been passed onto him, but he could still pull a few scents out of the air. And after having Kaitlin so uncomfortably close to him earlier, he definitely had her scent.

He narrowed his eyes and moved forward through the brush, heading northwest. "This way."

* * *

The gully was running half-full with brown water. She didn't even need to go down the steep hillside to see that. Now, she was stuck with a dilemma. Did she not see the bodies because they had been washed away, or did she not see the bodies because they weren't dead?

Kaitlin slunk along the ridge at the top of the hill, casting looks between the gully and the ground as she went. The combination of the gas and the drugs should have killed them, or at least kept them under long enough for them to drown. She'd given them with the same amount she'd given Steve, a high dosage that knocked a dragon out and would send a human into respiratory arrest.

She chewed her lip as she crouched by a tree. "Now I can't show him a picture as proof. But, what if they're alive? I mean, how could they be? What're the odds of them being dragons, too? Only one percent of the population are full blooded, so it'd be pretty low odds, and yet –"

Her scowl deepened as she poked at a footprint in the mud. It wasn't hers. She had on tennis shoes and this one was made by a barefoot. Small and slender. A woman's foot. She scooted through the brush further, following the direction the toes were pointing. Another larger footprint appeared. They were deteriorating with the rain, but she could tell they were heading northeast, up toward the direction of the rutty road. There was practically no traffic up here, but if they hit the road they could travel faster.

"Un-freaking-believable," she muttered and loaded a hunting arrow into the crossbow. "Only you, Kaitlin Pritchard, only you would manage to fall in love with a dragon and come across a den of them."

Tracking deer through sudden rainstorms in the badlands of Montana would be harder than tracking these two. She followed at a quick pace, hoping that the drugs were keeping them slower than normal and counting on the fact they weren't expecting her.

After losing her first boyfriend back on the South Dakota border, something to do with a restraining order and then him up and disappearing on her, she refused to let this one go as easily. Steve was hers and hers alone, and after these two pests were gone and out of their lives for good, he would see that she had been right. He would be happier with her. Hell, he'd already kissed her and called her beautiful. It _was_ destiny.

* * *

Danny steadied Catherine as she stumbled over a root. Most of the haze and headache from the drugs had faded, and the only pains he felt were from his shoulder and ribs. He was a full blooded dragon, though, and Catherine was not.

"Hey, easy there, babe, easy," he said, keeping a hold of her elbow in case she fell again.

Catherine leaned against a tree and took a few controlled breaths in. "I'm okay, it's just these drugs. My head's all fuzzy and it feels like a migraine's coming on."

"And you're shivering," he noted. Goosebumps up and down her arms and legs attested to that fact. "I'd offer you my shirt, but being soaked as it is, it'd be useless."

"Who said chivalry's dead," she cracked a grin at him. She turned her squinted eyes up to the canopy and then did a sweep of the surrounding jungle. "There's got to be a road somewhere around here."

Danny held his right hand palm up. "I don't know, maybe the thugs carried us on their shoulders and tossed us down the hill like a couple sacks of potatoes."

"Or we've been walking the wrong way," she mumbled. "I thought going up would get us out of the way of the runoff, but maybe we should start heading down at –"

 _Thwip!_

They ducked. Danny swiveled his head around until he spotted the arrow sticking out of the tree just a little above where Catherine had been standing.

"You've got to be kidding me," she whispered fiercely. The undergrowth was shielding them from sight for now and no more arrows came flying.

"It's Murphy's Law, it's basically the team's motto: anything that can go wrong, will go wrong," he said, one hand chopping along to add emphasis to the phrase. He glanced over the large leaves sheltering them in search of their pursuer. No one was visible. "If we run, we risk giving them a chance to shoot us. If we stay here –"

"They might have a chance to sneak up on us," she concluded. "I say we run."

"Can you run with your head?" he asked and gestured to his own head.

She touched the scab on her forehead and winced. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Ready?"

Danny waited for her to bolt upright and then followed closely after her. They ran in zigzags to make them harder targets to hit. She weaved through the trees and he vaulted roots and logs, almost losing his balance a few times. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he glimpsed someone running parallel to them farther down in the jungle.

Catherine cursed as they came to a massive crack in the ground. More of a chasm. He didn't know what it was, if the ground had collapsed in over a lava tube or an earthquake had split it open or if it was from water eroding the stones under the topsoil away, but it was too big for a human to jump and completely blocked their path.

"Up, up!" she yelled and started running uphill alongside the gaping crack.

He definitely saw someone this time. They were coming up at an angle, making it so if they turned to double back or if they tried to run downhill they'd run into them. The only escape he saw was over the crack.

He growled and knew he was going to regret shifting with his shoulder being the way it was. Putting on a spurt of extra speed, ignoring the protesting in his knee from running over uneven terrain and his ribs from his heavy breathing, he reached out to grab Catherine as scales sprouted from his forearms up and bones began to move.

 _Thwip!_

He bowled into Catherine instead of catching her, knocking them both to the ground. All shifting came to a halt and he was caught between a yell and a groan.

"Oh my god, Danny," Catherine squirmed out from under him. She pulled at his right arm in an effort to get him back on his feet. "Come on, we've got to keep going."

He panted shallowly, his teeth gritting together and tears forming in his eyes as he struggled back to his feet. This was a new type of pain that he'd never felt before, and he'd been shot, stabbed, bitten, burned, beat, drugged, and had suffered numerous other injuries. This was a new one on him.

Another arrow narrowly missed them, and he was sure he felt its guide feathers clip his ear.

Grunting, he started to move forward again. He shoved Catherine ahead with his good arm and chugged behind her. He cast a glance at his left shoulder. A glistening red barbed arrowhead stuck out below his collarbone, his once white shirt turning a rose color.

He flinched as a different weapon fired.

"Kaitlin, stop!"

Through the thundering in his ears he recognized the voice. Steve.

"No, no, no! What're you doing? You're supposed to be asleep!"

That voice was a woman's and came from behind them.

He couldn't muster enough oomph to get over the fallen log Catherine had hustled over and braced his hand against it instead. Stars danced in his vision. He really hoped Steve had their pursuer's attention, because he was a sitting duck right now.

The muscles in his arm spasmed. He swallowed back bile and sank to the wet ground, focusing on trying to keep the bones from pulling back together. His shoulder blade nudged the shaft sticking out of his back and he had to fight for breath and fight to stay conscious, because if he passed out there would be nothing holding the shift back and who knew what damage the arrow would really do once he went back to fully human. And he didn't even want to imagine it breaking and moving around if he went fully dragon.

Catherine slid back over the log and crouched by him. Her eyes widened. "What the hell?"

"It caught me mid-shift," he ground out. He gripped his left arm with his right hand, forcing it to stay still.

Catherine very gently touched the burnt umber and cinnamon scales covering his forearm and shoulder. She grimaced in sympathy at the unnatural position of the bones. "If you had been human it would have gone through your shoulder blade."

"Damned if I shift, damned if I don't, huh?" he licked his lips and exhaled sharply. He didn't know how much longer he could hold the awkward partial shift.

* * *

Steve saw his partner go down and feared the worst. He had fired off the warning shot at Kaitlin and drew her attention to him to give the others some leeway to get to cover.

He shouldn't have really been surprised to see Danny and Catherine running through the jungle. Danny was hard to keep captive for very long and Catherine had a never say die attitude. Still, it had startled him and then watching from a distance as Danny was hit with an arrow had rattled him further.

"I'm doing this for us, okay? It's going to just be me and you, forever and ever!"

He pressed up against a tree and peered around it. The crack in the ground was separating him from his partner and girlfriend, and it was keeping him from getting closer to Kaitlin, whom he couldn't see.

"Kaitlin, this isn't love. Murdering my friends won't make me love you," he called out.

He gave Chin a nod as the man crept around higher up the slope, searching for a way around the crack and a way to get over to the others. Right now, he had the advantage of being able to hold Kaitlin's attention and keep her from finishing the job.

"Don't lie to me, Steve. You already kissed me. You had already let them go, why is it such a big deal now?"

She must have been crouched in the thick undergrowth somewhere. He glanced upward at the canopy, cold specks of rain washing over his face. The branches were too thin for him to shift and get up there, and even if he did shift to jump over the crack he'd just make himself a bigger target. His scales weren't thick enough to deflect an arrow shot from a crossbow.

"Kaitlin, please. Put the bow down and put your hands above your head. It's over now," he said.

There was just the pitter patter of rain for a few moments and then her voice again. "I can't believe you're choosing them over me, after all I did to get you up here. Do you know how much planning it took? And now you're going to throw it all away? You're right it's over!"

Steve rounded around the tree with his gun leveled at where he thought she was. He realized it had been a ploy to get him to reveal his position as soon as he heard the _thwip_ of the arrow releasing and fire erupted in his thigh. He threw himself behind the tree again before the next arrow could actually hit him. It dug into another tree at about chest height.

"If I can't have you, then no one can, got it? Because I love you so much, and I know you love me and what if – I can't just kill you – what if I – what if I make you a deal, okay? You come back to the house with me and I'll leave these two alone, okay? We'll take care of that arrow in your leg and everything will be fine. How about it, Steve?"

He could have rolled his eyes into the back of his skull. The arrow wasn't in his leg, but it had clipped him and left a decent sized slash that was leaking blood. She was unraveling. Her perfect plan and nearly perfect kidnapping had been undone by a couple of stubborn souls. Careful not to come out far enough to get shot again, he peeked around the tree and looked up to where Danny had fallen. Through the trunks and brush he could see Chin crouched by a fallen tree. They made eye contact. A shared understanding of the plan passed silently between them.

"Okay, Kaitlin, okay," he took a deep breath and moved out from behind the tree with his gun hanging loosely on his finger. "It's a deal. Don't hurt them and I'll go with you."

A figure popped up from the undergrowth not too far off from where he had guessed she'd be. Her camouflage jacket had served her well, but now she was plainly visible and he was able to catch the severe scowl she was wearing.

"Wait, where'd you get the gun? Hold on, there's someone else here? You're still lying, I knew it!" she raised the loaded crossbow and lined up a shot dead center on him.

A gun cracked. Kaitlin went down with a cry and the arrow was wild, sailing through the trees and landing somewhere way off. Steve let out the breath he'd been holding and limped up the hill while Chin went down to where Kaitlin was. He found the spot Chin had used to cross and jumped the crack, giving a small unintelligible curse as the muscles in his leg grabbed.

"Cath?" he spotted her dark brunette hair on the other side of a log.

She stood and turned. He frowned at the bruising on her face and forehead, and at the mud covering her and her night clothes. However, she was alive and that's all that counted. He hugged her across the log, breathing in her sweat, her flowery shampoo, and her natural familiar scent.

"Steve, we were so worried about you," she said.

"I was more worried about you two," he said and pulled away. His heart skipped a beat as he looked down at his partner. Fronds and leaves rustled as he hopped the log and slid into a crouch with his injured leg stretched out next to his partner. "What the hell is going on with your shoulder?"

"The arrow got him while he was shifting," Catherine explained.

Blood oozed down the shaft and dripped off the arrowhead, making dark rosettes on the green leaves and muddy ground. Steve pressed a hand against the wadded up shirt packed around the wound.

Danny hissed and his eyes shot open. "Easy there, Nurse Ratched! What's the matter with you, huh?"

"This thing might have nicked a subclavian artery or vein. We need to slow the bleeding," he said, not easing off his steady pressure despite the dirty look he received. He glanced at Catherine. "Paramedics?"

"Chin said EMS was on its way up with Duke, but it's going to be hard for them to get out here," Catherine gave the surrounding jungle a pointed nod.

"Hey, Danno, think you can walk?" he asked. The pale skin and heat radiating off of him almost answered his question.

"Not unless you want me fainting like a school girl," Danny said with a small, weak laugh that trailed off into a groan. The scales on his forearm flared out like a pinecone and retracted into nonexistence. He bared his teeth and Steve felt the arrow twitch and bones move beneath his hands.

"Damn it," he muttered. He craned his head downhill. "Chin! When was Duke supposed to get here with EMS?"

"Probably any minute," Chin called uphill. He hiked back up toward them, zipping his jacket up over his bare chest. That's whose shirt was soaking up Danny's blood. "The road's about a hundred yards up that way. I'll call Duke and flag down the ambulance."

"I knew we would've hit a road if we kept going up," Catherine said under her breath. She scooched closer and directed Danny's head to settle on her leg so his neck wasn't kinked with him lying on his right side.

Steve furrowed his brows at her as she tenderly brushed a few stray hairs from his partner's face. The chaos of the chase had given way to a quiet aftermath, and in the calm his heart started to slow, his mind cleared, and he couldn't help himself. "What is this, bud? I'm gone for a few hours and you steal my girl?"

"Steve," Catherine shook her head at him.

"No, no, it's okay, Cath, he's going to have to find out sometime," Danny said. He smirked up at Steve, the laugh lines on his face marred with creases from the pain. "There's something we've been meaning to tell you."

Catherine patted his cheek and mirrored his smirk. "We've actually been seeing each other for a while now, but couldn't figure out when to break the news to you."

Steve buried his amusement underneath a scowl and increased the pressure on Danny's shoulder, earning a small complaint. "Wow. I never saw that coming. I feel really betrayed."

"What can I say, I can't resist guys shorter than me," Catherine winked at Steve.

"Hey, hey," Danny tilted his head to glare at her. "Consider yourself dumped. Rambo-ette is all yours, babe."

Catherine's face sobered. "What happened, Steve? Who was that woman?"

He swallowed and exhaled heavily. "Her name is Kaitlin. She's apparently been stalking me for months."

"Who would've thought tall, dark, and handsome could pick up a stalker, huh?" Danny perked a brow at him. "It's not like women already fall all over you."

"She was from that apartment complex Bishop blew up. I carried her down the stairs," he said. It was an extremely unsettling feeling that such a short interaction had caused all of this to unfurl. "She was the one who sent flowers to the office and left them outside the house. I thought all her emails were junk mail."

He paused for a second and felt a distinct chill go down his spine. Catherine set her hand on his.

"She must have been in my house before. She had one of my ties, a key to the door, the alarm code, she had pictures of us at the office, the shrimp truck, the house," he said. The more he thought about the creepier it got. Who knew how many times she had walked right on into his house and looked around.

"You need a dog."

He looked down at Danny, the chill vanishing at the seemingly random statement. "A dog?"

"Yeah, a big mean looking pooch. People don't want to mess with houses that have dogs in them," Danny said. His voice cracked and his eyelids shuttered closed.

"Hey, eyes open, partner," Steve shook him a little. "Tell me about the kind of dog I need until the paramedics get here."

Danny grunted, but obediently opened his eyes into slits. "Not a little yappy dog. I can't stand those. Grace wants a Yorkie and I told her she already has a dog, a nice big scruffy mutt. And a rabbit."

He shot a look uphill. Still no sign of Chin or the paramedics. "Okay. No small dogs. What kind of dogs do you like?"

"Me?" Danny raised his brows. "I love all dogs. We had a black lab named Molly when we were kids. She was a saint. I was fifteen when she had to be put down."

"We had a yellow lab," Catherine said. "My dad said he traded brain cells for friendliness, but he was a good dog."

Steve huffed. "Never had anything bigger than a goldfish."

"You missed out, babe," Danny said. He took a few breaths in and squinted at him. "I see you having a yellow lab. Or a German Shepherd. Or a Rottweiler."

"Not a Border Collie?" Catherine asked.

"No. No, you see the problem is, we work too much for him to own a dog," Danny said. "It'd be at home all alone a lot."

"How about a cat?" he asked, shooting another look uphill. His hands were crimson, and Danny's voice was getting quieter and quieter with each sentence.

"Oh, sure, a small furry demon would suit you perfectly," Danny muttered. His fingers curled into a fist and the arrow twitched again.

The shoulder blade moving under his hand was an unpleasant feeling. "Come on, bud, just a little longer."

The sound of voices drifted downhill to them. Catherine and he inclined their heads up and spotted Chin starting the trek down through the trees with two paramedics in tow. He could've laughed at the perfect timing.

"You're going to be okay, Danno," he said.

Danny acknowledged him with a grunt.

Catherine gently set his head on the ground and backed out of the way once the paramedics were close enough. Steve remained in place to keep pressure on the wound. The lead paramedic merely stepped around him to get a better look at what was going on.

"Well, I'll be damned," she said. She had dark hair pulled back into a braid, a mixed cultural skin tone and facial structure, and looked vaguely familiar. "You two do get to meet a lot of paramedics. I'm Ramona, and this is my partner Sebastian."

"You were there when Danny got bit by the snake," Steve said, recognizing her now.

"So that's what it was?" she said in surprise as she took a pulse and listened to his lungs. "Weak and rapid. Clear lung sounds. This is going to be fun trying to get him up to the rig with that arrow where it is."

At some point, after a short debate, the two paramedics finally figured out how they were going to do it and Steve stepped aside to let them work. Or rather, he stumbled aside and made a face as the coagulated blood on his thigh pulled and started to dribble blood again.

"Steve, you should probably get that looked at," Catherine said and pointed at the slash.

"I'm fine. I'm just glad you two are okay," he said. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, relishing the familiar feel of her lips on his.

"Ugh."

He glanced over at Danny as the paramedics strapped him to the backboard. "What?"

"Get a room, you animals."

* * *

 **Well, I hope y'all enjoyed.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", Grace meets a familiar face while unsupervised.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! It means a lot to me.**


	71. Fact 63

**Who could it be now...*insert saxophone***

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #63: An old tale once said a dragon could never resist a child.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

Grace glanced around the corner of the waiting room at the door down the hallway. Still closed. She sighed and kicked her feet as she returned to her drawing. This was taking forever. What was supposed to be a simple doodle to pass the time had grown into a full page in her sketchbook.

She rested her cheek on one fist and flicked eraser shavings away with her other hand. Her mom had been reluctant to let her come with Uncle Steve to the hospital to pick up Danno, but it's not like she was doing anything exciting in school, anyway. Though, she had expected the hospital trip to be slightly more interesting than what it was turning out to be. She wasn't even sure how Danno had been hurt this time, all she knew was his left arm was in a sling and it had to do with him not picking her up for early morning cheer practice two days ago.

She pulled out her phone and checked the time. It was already twelve thirty and the lunch date Uncle Steve had promised had yet to happen. She was starving. And thirsty. She should've grabbed a bottle of water.

As she drew her twelfth flower, she was getting good at them by now, someone else walked into the waiting room. Instinctively, she twisted away in a 'please don't sit by me' gesture and continued drawing. Unfortunately, it didn't work. The chair next to hers squeaked and she felt more than saw the person sitting too close for comfort.

"I like the angry scribble at the bottom."

Grace shot a quick look at the rather hastily drawn monster eating flowers at the bottom of the page. She partially closed the sketchbook and stared at the person who had sat next to her.

She was in teal scrubs with copper hair pulled back behind her head by a clip. Long legs and arms made the already uncomfortable chair look even more so, like when Uncle Steve had to sit in one of the waiting room chairs. Her angular face had a certain look to it. It reminded her of her friend's Siamese cat, who by the way, did not like her for some reason.

"What're you doing here all by yourself?" the woman asked.

Grace glanced down the hallway again in desperation. She had been a social butterfly once, but after getting kidnapped twice, random adults talking to her made her skin crawl.

"Oh," the woman said and propped her foot up on her knee. "You're Danny's kid."

"Yeah," she croaked. Both the bad cop and the dragon had known who she was and who her father was, so this person knowing that didn't make her feel better. If anything, it gave her the creeps even more.

"Easy there, kid, I don't eat children, I promise," the woman held out a large hand with long fingers. "I'm Doctor Mauna."

After a few seconds of hesitation, she shook the warm hand. The doctor didn't squeeze like some adults did, and that was okay with Grace.

"Are you my dad's doctor?" she asked slowly.

"Not this time," the doctor shook her head. "I just had to see this for myself."

Her curiosity rose, and her fear started to melt away. "See what for yourself?"

"How he got shot with an arrow without fracturing any bones or severing the subclavian artery or vein," the doctor said.

Grace's eyes widened. "He got shot with an arrow?"

The doctor's own amber eyes widened fractionally. She hummed lowly and glanced upward. "Great. Stuck my foot in my mouth. He's okay. Nothing really important was hurt."

She had a whole lot of questions now. "How? Why? Where'd he get shot? In the arm?"

The doctor dug her knuckle into her temple. "I'm not sure, I'm not sure, and it went through his shoulder."

"But, how'd it go through his shoulder without hitting anything?" she asked, now moving her own arm around and feeling the shoulder blade covering most of that side of her upper back.

"I feel like I should pull the patient confidentiality card before I get into more trouble with your dad and McGarrett," the doctor said and scratched the back of her neck.

She peered around at the door. Still closed. Good grief, how long did it take Danno to get dressed? She turned back to the doctor. "I promise I won't tell them who told me."

The doctor swept her eyes over the waiting room and the hallway before leaning in. "Okay, but if this blows back on me, kid, I'm throwing you under the bus."

"Okay," she nodded. She wasn't one hundred percent sure what getting thrown under the bus meant, but it didn't sound pleasant and she hoped it was only a saying.

"You know how dragons shift?" the doctor asked.

Now she felt uncomfortable again. It was a rule her and Danno had, not telling anyone about being dragons. She had never told another person that Danno could shift or what he shifted into, and the only person outside of her family and _ohana_ who knew she had scales was the bad dragon. Wo Fat. The one who had come within an inch of killing her dad and uncle.

"You know what? Don't worry about it. Just be grateful your dad's incredibly lucky," the doctor said and sat back, much to Grace's relief.

"Danno said he's a danger magnet," she said. "He blames it on Uncle Steve."

The doctor snorted out a laugh. The pair of them sat in the waiting room in silence for a minute, Grace just tracing patterns on her sketchbook cover and the doctor's leg bouncing up and down repeatedly. Grace didn't really think the doctor was dangerous or going to hurt her, but she felt awkward not talking to her.

"So," she started.

"So," the doctor echoed.

"How was your day?" she asked, and then wanted to smack her forehead. It was such a dumb question.

The doctor looked at her hands, her eyes going dark. She exhaled harshly and her leg resumed bouncing. "Honestly? It's kind of sucked so far."

Grace straightened up and looked at her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

A smirk flashed across the doctor's face. She shook her head. "Not really. No offense to you, I'm sure you're a great therapist."

"What do you do? Are you an ER doctor or a baby doctor or a different kind of doctor?" she asked.

"I work shifts in the ER, but I'm a burn specialist," the doctor answered. "That's where I was before I came down here. Upstairs in the burn ward."

Grace put two and two together. She'd seen Uncle Steve's burns and had been told that getting burned was super painful. Someone must have been burned bad and needed taken care of and that's why the doctor was having a bad day.

"Did you take care of Uncle Steve when he got burned last year?" she asked.

"I did."

"Thank you," she said. At the doctor's slightly confused look, she added, "For taking such good care of him. I heard Danno say you really saved his butt. Well, he actually used another word, but if he heard me say it, I would have to eat soap for a month."

"I'm sure there's something in the breakroom better than soap. You eat lunch, yet?" the doctor asked, doing an expert job at deflecting the praise.

She shook her head and glanced back at the door for the umpteenth time. "Uncle Steve said we were going to go to lunch, but…."

The doctor pushed out of the chair with a grunt and stood tall. "I'll go steal a snack from one of the nurses. I think Kori might be willing to share with you."

Grace watched her walk away down the hallway. She was a really tall woman. A lightbulb clicked on. Her shoulders sank as she released the tension in them. That had been the woman up in the jungle after the dragon had kidnapped her, and Danno and Uncle Steve fought with him and then they all needed a doctor. A dragon doctor.

She was much more relaxed when the doctor returned and handed a snack sized Cheez-It package to her along with a can of Sprite.

"You were up in the jungle that day," she said around a mouthful of crackers.

"I'm up in the jungle a lot of days," the doctor said and sipped from her coffee cup.

"No, when that bad guy…when Wo Fat bit Uncle Steve," she whispered.

The doctor furrowed her brows at her. "You were up there?"

"Uh huh."

"Why?"

"Um," Grace busied herself with picking the salty remnants out of the bottom of the bag. Seriously, how many crackers did they put in one bag, anyway? Four? "The bad guy took me before I got to cheer practice and had me up in the jungle. He told me he was going to kill Danno and Uncle Steve."

The doctor's face went stony. She set her hand on top of Grace's head and patted her gently, albeit awkwardly. "Damn, kid. You're tough."

"Hey, hey, don't be using that language around my daughter."

"Danno!" Grace stood up and wrapped her arms around his middle, careful of his arm sitting in its sling. "What took you so long?"

"He refused to accept help," Uncle Steve said and ruffled her hair affectionately.

"I can put a shirt on without you hovering, you control freak," Danno snapped.

"Yeah, if you have half an hour to kill."

"See, kid? Totally okay," the doctor said. She stood up eye level with Uncle Steve. "You didn't call me for the cool one?"

"The cool one? You think this," Danno gestured to his left shoulder, "is cool? What's the matter with you, huh?"

"It's only cool because what numbskull could get shot mid-shift and then hold it for that long?" the doctor said with a shrug.

Danno gave the doctor a dirty look and wrapped his good arm around Grace's shoulders. "What're you doing here, anyway? Besides corrupting my daughter."

"She's tougher than she looks," the doctor said and winked at her. "I just wanted to see this for myself."

"Alright, well, go gawk somewhere else. I'm going to lunch with my favorite Monkey," Danno smiled at her as she put her sketchbook away and picked up her backpack. "And this dumb gorilla."

"Danno!" Grace giggled.

"You love me."

"No, not when you insist on helping me get dressed. This apology is going to be in the acceptance pending stage for a very long time, you absolute caveman."

Grace turned around and waved at the doctor. She gave her a soft, rarely seen grin and waggled a few fingers at her.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", the paramedics tried their hardest.**

 **Hey, you guys! Wassup? Anything you'd guys like to see in particular? I've got a few chapters involving a secondary character brewing, involving some extreme sports, maybe some crossovers, and then a good ole horror/suspense/thriller for October.**

 **Thank you for your continued support! For reading, reviewing, faving, and following. :)**


	72. Fact 64

**All hail the EMTs and paramedics.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #64: Proper preparation prevents poor performance.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

"What're my stats now?"

"I don't know. Take them."

She encircled her fingers around her patient's wrist while her partner checked his blood pressure again.

"Bp is now 185/120, heartrate is 68, and respiratory is 18."

Her brows furrowed. She leaned over and peeled her patient's eyes open, shining a penlight in each pupil.

"Equal reactive. Sluggish."

"Steve? Can you squeeze my fingers?" she asked, sliding two fingers into his loose fist. No response. "Lowered mentation. With the CSF leakage in the ears, mechanism of injury, and what is appearing to be Cushing's triad, I'm thinking he has intercranial pressure."

"How do you want to proceed?"

"Emergent to a Level 1 trauma center. Call in ahead with stats," she sat back and worried her bottom lip.

"Five minutes out."

"I continue to take trending blood pressures and heartrate, monitor breathing, and then let the doctors at King's take over," she said.

"Okay. Critique time," the middle-aged man holding the clipboard squatted down next to the two students and their live patient. "What did you do wrong?"

"Spirit fingers," she muttered.

Chelsea, her partner, unstrapped the C-collar from around Steve's neck and offered him a hand to help him sit up. He accepted it, rolled his shoulders once he was up, and dug a finger in his ear to get the red tinted fluid out. It was the fifth time today he had fallen off that twenty-foot ladder and man, was he stiff.

"If you're going to palpate, put pressure down like you mean it. Don't try to hurt the guy if you can help it, but this little number like you're playing the piano on him isn't going to help," the instructor waggled his fingers at her and then pivoted toward Steve. "What else did they miss, Commander?"

After having done this and one other scenario all morning, Steve felt like he was an honorary student in the paramedic program and knew exactly what the students should have been doing. "Didn't check mental status before backboarding."

Autumn and Chelsea both groaned.

"If you had, you would've noticed mentation declined as the scenario progressed and it would have been on record. What major injuries did you note?" the instructor, Greg, asked.

"Deformation on the back of the skull, minor abrasions on shoulders and back, and the deformation on the lower back," Autumn said.

Steve got to his feet and stretched. He needed coffee. And food. It had been a long morning.

"If you had checked while he was still responsive, you would've noticed he couldn't move or feel his legs," Greg said. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Steve. "You need to have that kind of stuff on record before you backboard, because if you don't, they can come back and say that you guys did it while you were transporting him. If it's on record that he couldn't feel his legs before you moved him, our asses are covered."

The two girls blew out breaths as they repacked their training bag.

Greg stood up and ran a hand over his gray ticked hair. "One day we'll get them all whipped into shape. Get back to the classroom for discussion and then we'll break for lunch. Commander, you and your team can beat it for now. We don't need you again until one."

Autumn hefted the big bag up by the strap and held her hand out to Steve. "Thanks for helping us today. It's so much better working on live patients than the dummies."

"You're welcome," he shook her hand and watched her and Chelsea disappear into the building.

He headed toward one of the only shady parts of the parking lot where the Camaro and the Traverse were parked. If they had to be here today, then yes, they were going to hog the shade. The students being happy to have living, breathing patients had eased some of his irritation, but he still wasn't thrilled to be here.

"Why'd you have to drag me along, huh?"

He glanced at Danny sitting on a bench in the shade. Since they weren't technically working, his partner had ditched the slacks and dress shirt for jeans and a t-shirt. And a sling, of course.

"What do you mean?" he asked and plopped on the other end of the bench.

"You know what I mean. I was exempt from this community service project you got assigned, and yet, here I am, letting a bunch of college kids practice on me," Danny's right hand fluttered out to gesture to the buildings opposite the parking lot and then to himself. He winced and adjusted his arm in its sling. "I could be sitting at home in my boxers in my air conditioned house, but no, you drag me along to share in your misery."

"We're commiserating together. I thought you liked to do that?" Steve shrugged, a smirk turning up one corner of his mouth. Was it selfish to force his partner to be here with him when he didn't have to? Maybe. Probably. Okay, yes, it was.

* * *

 _Sometime three days ago…._

The Governor finally set his hands firmly on the table. Not quite hard enough to be a slap, but hard enough to end the heated conversation and draw everyone's attention back to him.

"Gentlemen, we are in a reports meeting, not a mudslinging contest," Denning said. He gave the two team leaders a hard stare.

Grover leaned back in his chair, hands folding over his stomach and his brows going up along with the corners of his mouth. "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware the Commander couldn't handle the truth."

Steve glared at him across the table. Other heads of law enforcement were present and all of them had known him longer than the relatively new SWAT captain. It was a telling sign that a few of them had rolled their chairs further away from Steve.

"Can I rely on you two to not kill each other for the remaining duration of this meeting?" Denning asked.

Grover looked at Steve. "We're good here."

Stiff as a board and strung as tight as a piano string, Steve nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"Good," Denning said. "Let's continue, then."

The next fifteen minutes were tense with the other heads of law enforcement giving their reports quickly and not a word being said from Grover or Steve. When the extended meeting finally ended, Steve was ready to bolt from his chair and go take a long swim to work out his anger. It was either that or take it out on his aggravator.

"Commander, Captain, you're not dismissed," Denning said before he could duck out.

"Sir?" Steve turned around. At the Governor's gesture, he took his place back in his seat across from Grover, who looked as happy about it as he was.

He clenched his teeth and sucked in a deep breath, feeling a small warm spot at the base of his ribcage. He normally didn't get angry enough to have an issue with his boiling chamber as he didn't rely on it to vent like Danny relied on his stoking chamber, but the organ was shifted and he could feel steam slithering up his throat. He swallowed. He had been trained better than this. Even Danny didn't irritate him this bad.

"Three things, gentlemen. First of all, I don't want you two ever making a circus out of one of my meetings again, understand?" Denning said lowly, the threat coming through loud and clear. At their small apologies, he continued. "Second, the Captain has a point, Commander."

Grover's face lit up with a victorious look of surprise and Steve's veins lit up with fire. He stood up.

"Sit. Down."

He sat down. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Grover's face. It was only by intense self-restraint was he able to resist lunging across the table and grabbing him, either with his bare hands or with a fully shifted set of teeth.

Denning set his hands on the table and laced his fingers together. "Your team has done good work in the last months, breaking up the breeding operation as well as the fighting ring, and I am well aware of the ordeal you, Williams, and Rollins went through with Kaitlin Pritchard last week."

Steve deflated somewhat at the praise, and it was Grover's turn to heat up.

"That being said, I agree with what Captain Grover said about your team getting out into the community more," Denning gave a pause, waiting for him to respond.

"Sir, my team's job is to protect this island, and that's what we do," Steve said.

"See, so much more is involved in being a cop, but since you're not actually a cop, I guess you wouldn't know the benefit of having a positive and healthy relationship with the people you're assigned to protect," Grover said.

"Captain," Denning barked before Round Two could start. "Look, Steve, I know your team works hard and long hours –"

"Unbelievable," Grover muttered.

" – but you need to put forth a little more effort in building bridges with the community. All they see of you is what's in the headlines."

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "What would you like us to do, Sir?"

"The paramedic program at the college always needs live patients for their students to practice on. You and Lieutenant Kelly could assist them Thursday and Friday this week. From what I understand, Williams was shot last week and has his arm in a sling, so he can be excused from this particular activity," Denning said.

"Respectfully, our time can be put to better use –"

"That wasn't a suggestion, Commander. Consider it an order," Denning leveled him with a look that dared him to challenge it.

Steve glanced at Grover's smug mug and had to take in a few calming breaths before he could respond. "Yes, Sir."

"You're dismissed," Denning flicked his fingers at him.

He stood up and walked around the table toward the door.

"Just think of it this way, McGarrett, you're giving them practice for when they actually need to respond to call when one of your team gets injured in the field because you couldn't follow protocol," Grover said.

His fingers curled into a fist and he didn't quite bite back the primal growl. Now was not the time to deck the Captain no matter how much he wanted to lay him out on the floor. He turned to face the room once he was in the doorway. "And what was the third thing, Sir?"

Denning looked at him and then at Grover. "Third, don't you ever try to use a meeting to turn your peers against each other. Am I clear, Captain Grover?"

Steve smirked as he walked out of the office.

* * *

 _Today…._

"About time. I'm starving," Danny stood up from the bench. He waved a hand at Chin as he weaved through the cars toward him. "Woah, what happened to you?"

"Well, for starters, I think they used permanent paint on my face," Chin said, still scrubbing at the moulage on his cheekbone and temple with a wet paper towel.

"What scenario were you?"

"First one was a burn victim."

The three of them shared looks with each other. Steve had a few scars left on his chest from being a real burn victim nearly a year ago. Being officers, both civilian and Navy, they had encountered their fair share of injuries through the years, either on other people or on themselves. Which was part of the reason why the instructors and students were excited to have them helping. They had seen some of these things for real.

"And the second one was a combative drunk," Chin broke the somber mood.

Danny gave a short laugh and Steve grinned. It was hard to imagine their ever Zen friend portraying a difficult and combative patient, let alone a drunk one.

"Super SEAL's grace and balance aren't in play here obviously, because after almost cutting his hand off with a power saw during the first round, he proceeded to then fall off a ladder and slosh whatever's left of his brain around," Danny said.

"And what happened to you, brah?" Chin asked, eyeing the suspicious lack of moulage on Danny.

Danny pulled his shirt collar aside to reveal a red stain. "For your information, I was shot this morning and then I was a drug addict trying to get a hold of morphine."

Steve snorted. "Oh, so you were the one that had thrown everyone for a loop. I should've known."

"Alright, come on. I'm starving and can practically taste the garlic shrimp already," Danny headed for the passenger side of the Camaro. He settled in and strapped his seatbelt on with a bit of finagling while Chin crawled in back. "What're we doing this afternoon, anyway? It's not more of those scenario things, is it? I've been poked and palpated more than I want."

Steve smirked and cranked the key in the ignition. "We're teaching them scene safety."

"Scene safety? Hold on, don't tell me," Danny held up his hand.

"They're going to go on a call to a supposedly safe scene that then becomes unsafe when a suspect gets a hold of a weapon," he said as they pulled away from the college and headed for Kamekona's truck. "Greg said to go all out and scare them."

"No, do not scare the medical students, okay? I don't like that look on your face, you have this planned out too well. What is in my trunk? There better not be a rocket launcher," Danny questioned.

"Tac vests, smoke grenades, and two cases of blanks."

Danny massaged his forehead. "You're planning on giving them the full Five-0 experience, huh?"

He bared his teeth in a smile. He had to get his excitement out of this whole ordeal somehow. He was only preparing them for the time when they might come across the team during a situation in the field. After all, proper preparation prevents poor performance.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", the dragon market is full of oddities and the Williams family gets to see something many rarely get to see.**

 **So, maybe not quite what you had in mind from that little blurb last week, huh? Well, I'm a live patient for the paramedic program and think they need more credit. After all, they do keep you alive long enough to get to the hospital. ;) And they totally do scene safety scenarios, but with BB guns and firecrackers instead of blanks.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! It's almost been one whole year since I started this crazy adventure, and I couldn't have done it without you guys. :)**


	73. Fact 65

**Kind of just a fun frolick.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #65: The dragon market is wondrous and striking, mystifying and curious, full of whispers, smiles, and secrets.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

It was almost its own sovereign nation. Stepping foot onto the floor worn smooth by years of foot travel was like stepping into a different world, one where the rest of the world's troubles and politics were not welcome. Everything was left at the door. There was only the aroma of incense and spices and wood, the quiet murmur of voices, and colors flashing like fish scales in the maze of vendors.

Danny, for one, didn't mind the market here on Oahu. It was a well kept one, unlike some of the back-alley ones in Newark and its neighboring city New York. It had been a few months since he had visited this one and he had been talked into coming to it today by his nephew of all people.

"You know there's one of these only a few blocks from your ma's house back in Jersey, right?" he said, one hand flicking out loosely at the market spreading out from the bottom of the steps.

"Pfft. That little thing?" Eric swept a hand out at all the stalls. "This is like, ten times as big as that."

"And what did you need again that requires us specifically making a trip to the dragon market?" he asked. Wincing, he fidgeted with the sling his left arm was still resting in, wishing he could have just one day of rest.

"Come on, Uncle D. Live a little," Eric said. He flinched back at the glare he received. "Sorry, Uncle Danny. I don't see what the big deal is."

"The big deal?" he repeated. "The big deal is that I didn't want to spend my day off here, surrounded by all this crazy stuff and around all these people. I wanted to spend it at home with Grace."

Eric glanced around him at the eleven year old who was glowing with excitement unlike her father. "She looks real broken up about it."

"Danno, come on. I want to go check it out," Grace tugged on his hand.

Danny exhaled slowly through his nose. Eric? He could say no to. Grace? Not so much. Not only that, but it was her first time to any dragon market, and he couldn't very well take her to the front steps, give her a sneak peek, and then drag her out. She would probably wind up going to a market like this at some point, and he'd rather her first time going be with him than with someone else.

"Meet back here in an hour, okay? And no screwing around or causing trouble, huh? I don't have any real authority here and if you get your butt handed to you I can't do anything about it but laugh, got it?" he looked at his nephew pointedly.

"Have some faith in me. The E-Train is nothing but smooth," Eric tipped two fingers at him and jogged down the steps.

"Your cousin is going to be the death of me, Monkey," he shook his head as Eric disappeared into the vast arrangement of stalls. A small smile crept on his face at the absolute joy and awe written all over her expression. "What do you want to go see first?"

"I have no clue," she said. She did a quick visual sweep of the area. It really was an overwhelming sight.

"Might I make a suggestion?"

Danny pivoted to face the Hawaiian woman who was always standing guard at the interior door of the market. Her breath still smelled of fresh cinnamon and cloves.

"If you haven't been here in a while, we've had a few new vendors move in along the southern wall," she gestured to the left of the stairs. "There're two tea makers, a beekeeper, and a few pastry chefs. They're not all regulars, but are here today."

"I like tea," Grace said.

Danny nodded at the woman. "Thanks. I don't come here all that often unless a case brings us in here, but it's her first time going to any market."

The woman smiled and slipped two fingers into her breast pocket. She held a five dollar bill out to Grace. "If it's your first time, then the tea is on me. Try one of the Persian ones. They're my favorite."

Grace grinned and wrapped her fingers around Danny's free hand. They trotted down the stairs and navigated the paths over to the southern wall, brushing by stalls and stands full of vibrant fabrics, intoxicating spices and herbs, strange plants, and other assorted odds and ends.

Danny guided Grace behind him as a Drake squeezed down the narrow path going the opposite direction. She took in his ridged dirt red scales and the dark beard horns on his chin with wide eyes. He was shorter than Danny, but was certainly formidable looking.

"I've never seen so many dragons before," Grace whispered.

Danny conceded that she had lived a life fairly devoid of dragons up until she moved to Hawaii with him following in her tracks and then proceeding to get himself as well as her dragged into an _ohana_ consisting of an Arboreal/Amphibian crossbreed, an Amphibian, a mixed blood, and then his own Cliff type.

"It's pretty cool, huh?" he said. "Just remember your manners and don't stare, okay?"

She nodded.

The booths lining the southern wall were larger than the ones toward the center of the market and allowed for a large display of their products. They hadn't even gotten up to the first table before they could smell the teas through the haze of other scents.

"Look at that teapot," Grace pointed at the crystal clear glass teapot filled with leaves and berries steeping in an amber liquid. "That's awesome."

The woman standing behind the display bid her customer farewell and turned toward them with a gentle smile. " _Salam_. How are you today?"

"We're good," Danny said. "I'm going to take a wild guess and assume you're one of the new tea makers?"

"You would be correct. I'm Esther. Would you care to sample any teas? These ones on this side are from common spices and herbs, and these ones over here contain dragon spices, like this one has a pinch of Fire Root in it for everyday aches and pains. I make all the blends myself," she said, waving her hands over the respective tiny sample cups.

"We got told to try one of the Persian ones," Danny flicked a hand out at the wide variety spread out on the table.

"They should have been more specific. I have many Persian teas," she selected two cups and passed them to them. "This is a popular one. Its key notes are cardamom and ginger, and the underlying cinnamon gives it a natural sweetness."

Grace found it very different from the traditional British tea her mom made at home as this one had no milk or sugar in it and was far spicier. Her eyebrows went up.

"I didn't think tea could be spicy," she said.

Esther laughed. "Yes. I also make a blend that has black pepper in it. It is good for getting rid of stuffy sinuses."

"You needed that when you got that cold a few years ago," Grace poked her dad in the side.

As Danny talked to the tea woman, Grace's eyes were drawn to the display two down and the many jars sitting on it, but mostly to the slender standing box sitting near the edge.

"I'm just going down there," she pulled away from his grasp.

"Hey, be careful and don't go any farther, okay?"

"Okay, Danno," she assured him.

She walked by another tea table with an Oriental man talking animatedly to a mixed blood with orange scales patterned over her face and arms. She glanced over her shoulder as she approached the table with the jars. Danny was still in eyesight and she didn't plan on losing him any time soon.

The jars were full of various shades of gold, from a brown so dark it was almost black to a pale yellow like sunlight filtering in through a dusty window. Keeping her hands to herself, she leaned over to get a better look at them.

"Oh. It's honey," she said under her breath. She'd never seen so many variations of it. The slender box sitting near the edge of the table made sense now.

"Straight from the bees."

She looked up at the man behind the table. He had set his hand proudly on the humming box with its honeycomb and bees visible through a glass panel on the front, but she was no longer interested in that anymore. She was more intrigued by what he was holding against his chest.

"I know, I know. As soon as someone sees my little Benji, the bees don't matter," the man said.

Grace blushed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare."

"It's fine," the man waved her off with one hand, the other cradling the small, pudgy baby. The small, pudgy dragon baby.

"I thought babies couldn't shift until they were, like, ten years old," she said.

"They can't. He was born this way," the man said. "My wife was shifted when she had him and out he popped like this. Don't see many dragon babies at this market."

The baby had peach colored scales with pink blushing on his nose and toes. The scales also looked thinner and softer than a full grown Drake's scales did, more like a corn snake.

"Woah," she breathed. Now that was something she'd never seen before.

"Hey, Monkey," Danny strolled up and set his hand on her shoulder. He shot a quick look at the jars of honey and then up at the man, his eyes settling on the same thing hers had. "Congratulations. He's only gotta be what? Two months old?"

The man whistled. "Dang, good guess. He's two months tomorrow."

"Honey, are you showing off Benji again?"

A woman slipped through the space between the displays and the wall, collected the tiny Drake, and sat down with him.

"I can't help myself," the man shrugged with a sheepish grin. He extended his hand. "I'm Tulio, by the way."

"Danny, and Grace."

"Pleased to meet you. Can I help you with any questions about my honey?"

"Maybe when we come back," Danny tugged on one of Grace's pigtails lovingly. "We still haven't seen the rest of the market."

"Happy trails," Tulio bade them goodbye.

An hour came and went far too quickly in the timeless market. They had barely made it through two rows of vendors before they were supposed to meet Eric back at the front. On their way out, they grabbed a jar of pine honey from Tulio and a cup of chilled chai from Esther the tea lady.

"That was so cool," Grace repeated again. "Thank you so much for bringing me here!"

Though it hadn't been his idea initially, Danny would take credit for it now because of how happy it had made his daughter. He hugged her at the top of the steps, and then they waited for about four minutes before Eric finally showed.

"Eric, guess what," Grace said, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"What?" Eric asked.

"We saw a baby Drake," she whispered.

Eric jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the western wall. "There was a one year old Wyvern that was all over the place at one of the stalls. It was pretty sweet."

"What did you get?" Danny swept a hand out at the brown paper bag Eric had in one hand and at the cup in the other.

"It's called an Elixir of Life, it's what you drink when you need to power through the last few hours of your final paper for your college forensics class," Eric said, showing off the plain cup like it was a brand spanking new car he was trying to sell. "And then I got a little something for myself. What? Why are you giving me that look, Uncle D?"

"First of all, you don't have any papers due, so why do you need what sounds like coffee on steroids? And second, I want to know what was so important that you needed to come to the market," Danny said as they headed back through the curtain with the guards on either side and collected their cellphones.

"Come on, Uncle D," Eric whined.

Danny gave him a challenging look.

"Fine," he groaned. "It's a claw care set."

It was silent for a second and then Danny laughed. "Why do you need to pamper your claws? No, wait, don't tell me. With that cup of caffeine you got plus that set, I'm guessing you're going out tonight, right?"

"I'm a grown man, I can go out to the clubs if I want to," Eric said. He pulled a sour look at the smell of the fish market that whacked him in the face just on the other side of the door.

The parking was dreadful around the warehouse and a lot of people walked or rode their bikes there. It was a bit of a walk back to the Camaro, which Danny was regretfully letting Eric drive since his arm was still in a sling. Grace crawled in back and before Eric could hop in, Danny caught his attention over the top of the car.

"Hey, look. I don't care if you go out and have a good time. But be careful, okay? No showing off and shifting just because you can, no stupid pranks or dares, huh? I don't want to bail you out of something at three in the morning," he said. "Plus, your mom would kill me if she found out something happened to you on my watch."

"I got it. And I didn't get the set to show off, okay? Some people just like their claws to look good," Eric clicked his tongue with a wink and shot a finger gun at him, and then settled into the driver's seat.

Danny rubbed his hand down his face and feared what the next week with his nephew would bring.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", a day at the beach goes haywire for Eric.**

 **Here comes the secondary character stuff. Ehehehe. Sometimes I've just gotta shake it up a little.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! It means bunches to me. And tomorrow, Sept 19th, it will have been a whole year since I started posting this ridiculous AU. ;)**


	74. Fact 66

**Side character adventure!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #66: With a whole different cluster of tools at their disposal, some dragons are adrenaline junkies. Emphasis on some.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

Danny was immediately suspicious when he woke up.

His shoulder was stiff, but he didn't have to suffer the cursed sling anymore, because yesterday had been the last day unless he did something stupid to it. The arrow wound through his shoulder was healing nicely according to his doctor, helped along by the natural regenerative properties in him from being a dragon. It didn't mean he didn't hurt, though.

Grumpy at not getting to sleep in, he trudged through the house toward the kitchen in order to get the much needed coffee brewing while he was in the shower. To his surprise, someone was leaning against the counter.

He squinted at his nephew. "You're awake. Why are you awake? Why are you dressed and showered already?"

Eric glanced up at him from his phone and smiled. Who had the nerve to smile at six thirty in the morning? "Good morning to you, too."

"You got in late last night. Why aren't you hibernating like the bear you usually are, huh? It usually takes a train running over your head to wake you up," Danny grumbled and rubbed his hand over his gritty eyes.

"It was only one in the morning, and I've already got the coffee percolating, so chill, okay?" Eric said.

Danny eyed him, and then decided to drop that battle. He would shower and once he was awake enough he would form a coherent remark to his nephew. As he trudged back through the house toward the bedroom the doorbell rang.

Face darkening, he changed course for his door. If Steve was standing on the other side looking all chipper and like he had gone for a ten mile swim, he was going to introduce him to the knuckles on his right hand.

"No, wait, hold on! Go take your shower, Uncle D, I've got it!" Eric called from the kitchen.

He swung the door open and had to blink a few times. It wasn't his gorilla of a partner towering there.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

The woman, mid-twenties he would guess, grinned at him. She pushed the brim of her straw fedora up with her thumb, revealing a naturally tan face that had freckled with a recent sunburn. There was a bandage over the bridge of her nose as well.

"Ey, what's up?"

"What's up?" he echoed in confusion.

Eric brushed by in front of him, obscuring his view. "Jessa, hey. This is just my uncle. He rolled out of the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"Nah, I could tell that, mate," the woman laughed. "Ya ready to go?"

"Ready is my middle name," Eric grabbed the backpack by the door with a wince. "And that sounded really dumb."

"Yeah, no kidding. Because ready is my middle name," she said.

Before he could rush out the door Danny scruffed him by his shirt collar. "Hey, hey, care to explain to me what's going on and where you're going?"

"Come on, Uncle D, you're embarrassing me," Eric closed the door partly so the woman couldn't witness the exchange. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Danny raised his brows. "I'd say it looks like you're going on a date with a girl out of your league."

Eric frowned at him. "That hurts, man. Hurts deep. Her name's Jessa King. I met her Saturday night and I really like her, she's awesome. And it's not a date, it's a day at the beach."

"A day at the beach? In this weather?" He pointed up at the ceiling. He had glimpsed the gray clouds outside. With a shake of his head, he released him and held his hands up. "You know what? I don't care. You're a grown man."

"Thank you," Eric straightened his light cotton overshirt.

"And she's a beautiful woman and you better treat her like one, because even if she's not my daughter, I will pound some manners into you if I hear otherwise, okay? Got it?" he asked.

"Aw, how sweet," the woman on the other side of the door crowed. "Just so ya know Mister Eric's Uncle, he's been a perfect gentleman since I met him. But, if he starts to slip, I'll lay the beat down on him myself."

He chuckled, "I like her." He clapped Eric on the shoulder and pulled the door open wider, watched his nephew trot down the path to the sidewalk with the woman, and shook his head again. "Hey, don't be like me when I was a teenager, huh?"

"Oh, don't worry. I plan on actually having fun," Eric hopped into the passenger side of what he noticed was a rental Jeep packed with two surfboards.

"Catch ya later," the woman waved at him as they pulled away from the curb.

Danny couldn't help but shake his head once he closed the door. He hadn't sounded like it, but he was only concerned about his nephew hanging out with a woman he had met only a few days ago. Saturday night to Wednesday morning wasn't a long time to get to know someone.

* * *

Breeze in his hair, warm weather despite the clouds, a beautiful woman by his side, Eric privately admitted his life couldn't get any better than at this moment. Jessa was a tanned goddess imported from Melbourne, Australia, with wavy dark hair scooped up into a messy bun and a body sculpted from the finest clay, and though he had made a fuss over his uncle's comment, he agreed he wasn't sure how he had landed her.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Jessa glanced over at him with a crooked smile and a perked brow behind her sunglasses.

"If you say so," Eric held up his phone and snapped a quick shot of her laughing at him. "Okay, moment saved forever."

She threw the Jeep in park next to a few other cars in front of the stone barriers in the sandy parking lot. Eric grabbed his surfboard and offered to get hers, but she simply hefted it up above her head and grabbed her beach bag, too. He made a low whistle as she walked ahead of him.

"Yeah, I know. I love these jeans," she said without turning around. "They make it look like I actually have a butt."

"No, I mean, yeah, you're lookin' fine in that department, but I was admiring how you can throw a surfboard over your head with one hand," he took a few steps to catch up with her, still trying to figure out how to awkwardly half-drag, half-carry his own borrowed surfboard.

"Right," she said.

Jessa picked a spot seemingly at random and kicked off her sandals there, dropped her beach bag by them, and planted her surfboard in the sand. Eric followed suit. He tilted his head to the side as his surfboard leaned the same way.

"So, what'd you do yesterday after we got coffee?" he asked, eyeing her face, forearms, and chest that had obviously taken in a little more sun than they could manage.

"This?" she pointed at her freckled face. At his nod, she stripped out of her open overshirt and pulled her tied up tank top over her head. "Went swimming with some friends. The water reflecting up did me in. I do it every time I come back to a warm climate. Ya planning on surfing in your street clothes?"

Eric blinked. He'd been too busy watching her undress that he had yet to take off his shirt which he now hastily removed. He already had his trunks on. Jessa just grinned at him while she checked the knots on her green tie-dye bikini and then grabbed her surfboard.

Facing the ocean, she inhaled deeply. "I love the smell of adventure in the morning."

* * *

Two hours later, Eric wasn't so sure he loved the smell of adventure in the morning. In fact, he was wondering if his newfound companion was actively trying to kill him. Jessa was a very hands on teacher and didn't believe in ankle slappers. No. It was go big or go home. Right now, he was perched on his surfboard, bobbing up and down in the water that was beginning to grow choppier as the day went on, waiting for another wave to break.

"Are you sure we should still be out here?" he asked. The ocean was starting to look angry to him.

"Eh, maybe not, but I've surfed in worse weather," Jessa said. "Buck up, mate, ya managed to stay upright last time."

Straddling her surfboard to the left of him, she looked like a mermaid that had risen from the sea and Eric felt his apprehension ease somewhat. She looked over at him, giving him her crooked grin, which made the silver studs in her snakebite piercings glimmer and the gold on her nose ring shine.

"What?" she asked as he continued to stare.

"Why did you come over to me?" he asked. "You know, at the party."

"Ya mean why did I come over an' spill Tay's drink all over her dress?" Jessa laughed with a short snort preceding it.

"I finally had a pretty girl talking to me and then another pretty girl comes over and interrupts. I thought I was being punked or something," he said.

"Tay's pretty on the outside, but ugly as hell on the inside. Ya weren't being a creep like the other guys and I didn't think ya deserved to get bitten by that spider," she shrugged. "Plus, maybe I wanted to hang out with ya. Look alive, here comes one."

Eric smiled broadly at her comment. His uncle could give him all the grief he wanted, but the truth was that he wasn't as hopeless as he seemed.

Turning and laying on his surfboard, he paddled with the wave as it came in. Thunder rumbled overhead, and he could feel raindrops on his back. The other people had already left the beach, so it was just him and Jessa out there in the relatively sheltered cove. On the bright side, no one could watch him wipe out over and over. On the not so bright side, it was eerily lonesome.

He jumped up to his feet and balanced on his surfboard. It skimmed down the wall of the wave like a flat stone over a still lake.

"Yes!" he pumped a fist.

It wobbled underneath him. The nose of his surfboard skipped up and then the rest of it went the wrong direction up the wave, dumping him in the water as the wave curled around him. Plunged under and rolled by the force, he was no more than a sock in a washing machine. Churning water and bubbles surrounded him, currents tugging and pulling like invisible hands.

His head finally broke the surface.

Salt water stung his eyes and nose. For a few seconds he couldn't see where he was, then he spotted a green tie-dye dot paddling toward him and pointing. Still getting pushed around by the waves, he frowned at Jessa. What was she pointing at?

He craned his head around to look.

"Oh, shi–" A swell dunked him under.

When he popped back up he was very well aware of where he was, and that was too close to the rocks partially barricading the cove off from the rest of the ocean. The next rolling swell brought him closer to the jagged, looming shapes.

He windmilled his arms rapidly. It felt like a mime had an invisible rope tied around his waist and was reeling him in. For every frantic stroke forward, he floated back another foot. This was it. This was how he died. Maybe his uncle hadn't been so falsely paranoid of the ocean after all.

Eric lifted his eyes, his stomach twisting and his heart fluttering at the approaching wave. Rising with a malevolent darkness against a backdrop of gray rainclouds, white foamy flecks riding its crest, he stared down his impending doom and made a snap decision.

It pulled him up, water surging all around him, and it crashed into the rocks with him along with a thundering boom.

"Eric! Eric!"

He gasped. He was still alive. He hurt, but he was alive. It was a miracle. The wave had launched him up onto the rocks and the remaining water was draining through pinholes in the rough surface. The smaller swells weren't quite able to reach up over the top yet.

"Eric!"

Coughing and spluttering, he stood up and looked back at Jessa and froze.

"Ya had me worried there, mate," she called out. She was staying away from the rocks and out of the influence of the currents, but even over that distance he could see her crooked grin. "Quick thinking. Was worried I'd have to explain to your uncle why ya were shredded to ribbons."

"Uh…yeah, you know, spur of the moment thing," he stuttered out.

He was glad the other people had left earlier. It meant only Jessa was there to see him shifted into what his uncle had nicknamed his 'oddball form'. He had the Cliff's diamond scales and the Serpent's longer body and smoothness from his mom's side even though she was only a mixed blood, but had compact legs, shorter crown and jaw horns, and beard horns from the Drake in his full blooded and absent father. And to add to the oddball moniker, Grace told him he was colored like an Oreo cookie, chocolatey brown with a white stripe running from his neck to his tail on either side.

He held Jessa's eyes for a while, worry and pure fear flooding his veins. Despite what his uncle thought, he didn't shift for other people very often and this? This was terrifying. Never mind he had just survived a deadly encounter with the angry ocean.

Jessa finally held up her hands. "Well? Are ya going to come get your board or do ya want me to haul it back to shore?"

His eyes darted to the surfboard at the end of the tether she was holding.

"You're…you're cool with this?" he asked, waving his claws at himself.

"Yeah, I'm cool like that. You know what else I am? Hungry. C'mon," she urged.

Shaking his head at her ready acceptance of his dragon nature, he sprang away from the rocks and splashed into the water. Heavy and dense scales may have protected him from getting ripped to pieces, save for a few bruises he could feel throbbing, they did him no favors while swimming. Kicking strongly against the constant tug and pull of the ocean, he was panting by the time he made it to his surfboard. He slithered up onto it and followed Jessa back toward the shore.

As soon as his feet could touch the sandy bottom, he realized he was shaking from his close call. Or maybe from shifting so suddenly. Or probably both. Yeah, it was probably from both. He dragged his surfboard through the sand with the tether between his teeth, still following a rather nonchalant Jessa.

What had earlier seemed like a random spot to leave their beach bags and shoes now made sense. The big leaves of a large tree had kept their stuff dry.

Eric sat on his haunches with a deep sigh. "That was…that was really…."

"Awesome. That was absolutely wicked," Jessa laughed. She patted the water off her body with her colorful towel and shot a smile at him. A smile that made him slightly nervous.

"I don't think I would say that it was awesome or wicked, unless you mean wicked in the evil sense as in evil is bad and it was bad that I was almost killed by a bunch of rocks," he said. He rubbed his claws down his face. "Uncle D would never let me live it down."

"Yeah, but, ya lived, so it's a win," she said and tossed his towel at him. "There's no use being scared and thinking 'what if I died' when ya obviously didn't, so might as well laugh."

It sounded so simple, yet he dreaded the nightmares he knew he'd have for the next for nights of drowning and getting smashed on rocks. Slowly, he wiped the water off his smooth dark scales.

"Hey, I've got a present for ya."

"No more surfing lessons?" he quirked a grin at her.

She perked a brow at him as she rummaged through her beach bag. "No. At least not for today. Here."

With a curious expression, he took the laminated badge from her with two claws and squinted at it. His eyes went wide. "No way. Uncle D is working security for this thing this weekend. Are you sure you want to give this to me? I mean, you could sell it for a lot of money, like a lot–"

"Shut up. Yes, I want you to have it," she said.

"Are you going to be there?"

"Duh. This is my plus one badge," she tapped it. Her eyes widened. She grabbed his forefoot and held his claws up to the gray light. "Holy crap, your claws are polished."

Had it not been for his scales she would've seen the red flush his cheeks. "Yeah, well, you know. I've gotta take pride in my appearance."

She whistled. "Pride is right. I can see myself in these bloody things."

Thunder clapped above their heads and the rain started to come down harder. They watched it pebble on the water for a while until a bolt of lightning lit up the sky overhead and the crack of thunder afterward was a little too loud and close.

Jessa chuckled. "Ya know what?"

"What?"

"I forgot to put the top up on the Jeep. And ya know what else?"

Eric glanced over his shoulder, feeling panic on her behalf over leaving the rental Jeep uncovered. "What?"

"Your swimmin' trunks are floating 'round out there somewhere, and ya have no pants."

Feeling panic for himself now, he turned his wide eyes on her. Her face crumpled with a fit of laughter with her distinctive snort preceding it. He couldn't help it and had to start laughing, too.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Jessa isn't all she appears to be. Let the games begin. Involves more of the team next week.**

 **Check out the art page for three new pieces of Jessa and Eric!**

 **On a side note, how many of you have watched "Longmire" and/or "Burn Notice", or at least know enough to enjoy a crossover with them? I only ask because the crossovers that I might write would be important to some running arcs here in "Dragons" and it would be a bad idea to skip them with what I'm considering.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! It's been over a year now and we're still chugging along. Only because of you guys. :)**


	75. Fact 67

**Woah. Everyone was uber suspicious of Jessa. Y'all definitely have an inner Danno. XD**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #67: Being a dragon gives a whole new meaning to being extreme.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

"Hey, you might scare someone looking like that."

Danny glared up at his partner. "I feel like that should be my line to you, the crazy Navy SEAL who can peel paint off a wall with a single look and reduce bad guys to a quivering puddle once they see you in dragon form."

"I think you smile less than me," Steve said, eyes scanning the beach and the HPD officers set up along the barriers.

It was a busy day despite the gray clouds that hung in the sky. They weren't nearly as ominous as they had been earlier in the week, more of a misty and mild gray instead of the imposing navy blue filled with lightning. At least the temperature was decent with a slight breeze.

"I'll have you know I smile, just not around you, because you combined with that one over there plus Grace are all going to give me gray hair before I turn forty," Danny waved a hand around, his right not his left, because he refused to do anything to warrant wearing the sling again.

He frowned once he realized where he was pointing. "What'd Eric do now?"

"Oh, you know, nothing serious, the dumb schmuck just almost got himself killed while surfing with his new girlfriend the other day and you know what's worse? He didn't even tell me about it until last night when I saw the bruises on him," Danny said. One hand fluttered up to brush nonexistent errant strands of hair back.

"Easy there, partner. I get bruised up all the time when I'm surfing," he said in an attempt to ease the worry he could sense.

"No. I sat him down and he told me exactly what happened. A wave picked him up and threw him on some rocks. The only reason he wasn't hammered into pieces is because he shifted," Danny explained sourly.

He lifted a brow. "And his girlfriend?"

"Was surprisingly not bothered by that fact, by any of it at all, apparently," Danny sighed. He lowered his voice. "I looked her up after I got to the office Wednesday."

"I'm sure Eric doesn't need a helicopter mom hovering over him, Danno," he said. "Did you find anything?"

Danny shook his head. "No police record, plane ticket to Hawaii is legit, she even has an Instagram that's loaded with pictures of her travels. She checks out."

"So what're you so worried about? You told me on Wednesday you liked her."

"That was before she almost got my nephew killed, now shut up," Danny snapped as Eric walked toward them. He flicked a hand out at the drink he was carrying. "What is that?"

Eric held up the tall can, one hand chopping out to underline the logo. "Zico coconut water. Oh so refreshing."

"Since when do you like coconut water?" Danny asked as they started to walk along the beach toward the large tents serving as makeshift locker rooms, catering, and medical for now.

"I don't. Water should be plain, not flavored, you know? It's either water or it's not, don't give me some weird combination of the two. Besides, in my humble opinion, if a drink tastes like coconut it should also have rum in it," Eric said.

Steve smirked. Eric definitely came from the Williams family.

"Jessa likes them," Eric added.

"Heard you wiped out when you went surfing," Steve said.

Eric made at face at Danny. "Uncle D, that was supposed to stay between me and you!"

"I think you mean between me, you, and your girlfriend," Danny corrected.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Where is she, anyway? Shouldn't you be waiting for her back there?" Danny pointed over his shoulder at the crowd of spectators lining the beach.

Eric held up the laminated badge strapped around his neck. "Backstage pass, remember? She said to meet her back here, she had to talk to a friend first."

Danny gave Steve a look. He didn't trust her. Then again, he didn't trust anybody, especially when it involved his family. Steve was a stranger looking in at this family dynamic from the outside and didn't have all the details to make a decision himself, but he trusted his partner's instincts. If he felt something was off, something was off.

A down draft ruffled their hair as a Wyvern sailed overhead low to the ground. Eric gaped, Danny hummed, and Steve smiled. Seeing a flying dragon was a spectacular and rare sight in any given situation, and even though it wasn't going to be rare today, it was still going to be spectacular. There were far more fully shifted dragons gathered here today than one would probably ever see anywhere else.

Chin met them at the secondary barrier set up in front of the tents where HPD and SWAT officers were positioned. "Kono's going to be bummed she missed this."

"You talk to her lately?" Steve asked.

Chin nodded. "Yeah, she's holding up. Thinks she may have found a lead in Hong Kong."

"Good. Keep me posted," he said.

They crossed the barrier, Eric having to show off his badge to get through with a little extra help from his uncle when he received a skeptical look from the SWAT officer.

"You'd think it was the President of the United States they were guarding," Eric muttered, but he was smiling. "This is so cool. I've only ever seen these things on TV and then, you know, amateurs on YouTube."

"This is the first time they've come to Hawaii in thirty years," Chin said. "I remember being a _keiki_ and seeing them flying."

"But it's only the Wyverns that are here, right? They split them up, don't they?" Eric asked.

"Makes it harder to target them when they're staggered like that," Steve confirmed. "The Wyverns are here this year, the Amphibians are in the Philippines, the Arboreals are in California, and the Drakes are in New Zealand."

"And the Serpents and Cliffs don't compete in these ridiculous extreme sports because they have half a brain," Danny tacked on. "So, where's your not-girlfriend?"

"She said she'd be in the catering tent," Eric pointed downwind to the single tent that looked different from the others. He held his hands up. "You know, you don't have to chaperone me. You can go do whatever you're supposed to be doing."

"It's okay, E-Train. I want to meet Jessa," Steve said and gave his partner a small nod.

Eric sighed and led the way to the tent where the smell of food was emanating from. Danny grabbed his shoulder as a gust of wind kicked up and tossed grains of sand into the air. The Wyvern that had sailed overhead earlier thumped down on the beach, wings folding up like a bat.

" _Izvinite_ ," the dragon mumbled and stalked by them into the tent.

Eric waited until he was gone and then patted Danny's chest. "Holy crap, that guy is terrifying."

"Do I really have to tell you not to stare, too?" Danny tsked. "He just said excuse me. Now, do you need me to hold your hand when we go in there?"

Eric glared at him and entered the tent.

Steve quirked a grin at him. "I always forget you speak Russian."

"Only the basics, babe. Please don't get me in a situation thinking I can talk our way out of it," Danny said.

"I'll just let you rattle on for hours in English and they'll eventually let us go when their ears begin to bleed from the constant noise," he teased and walked ahead into the tent.

It was a big tent with a high ceiling. There was a lack of sitting tables and chairs, mostly because the tent was filled with Wyverns of all sizes, builds, and colors who didn't need a chair to sit. Various humans were scattered amongst them, some looking like coaches and others looking like friends or family. Along the back wall were tables lined with food, cooking equipment sitting behind that, and within the array of fryers and grills stood a very large man.

"Hey, look at this," Danny jerked his thumb at the man.

Chin smiled and headed back there with the other three tagging along. "Howzit, Kame?"

"Hey, bruddah, what're you doin' here?" Kamekona greeted. He eyed Steve and Danny. "You get these two to compete or somethin'?"

"Nope. No way would I ever take part in a bonehead competition like this," Danny shook his head.

"These aren't boneheads, _haole_ , they're fine tuned athletes," Kamekona defended. He used his spatula to gesture to several different Wyverns in turn. "That guy over there? He broke the record last year for longest air time. That little sista over there? No one has more control over their breathing than her. Him over there? He–"

"I get it, I get it. It's a valid sport. It still doesn't mean it's not ridiculously dangerous and stupid, especially in weather like this," Danny flapped a hand at the entrance of the tent where the white capped waves were visible.

Steve glanced at Eric. He was looking around the tent with furrowed brows, checking his phone, and then looking around again. He must not have been able to see his not-quite-girlfriend.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Pfft. Yeah," Eric tucked his phone away. "She's probably just, you know, running late or something. That crowd was a beast to get through and I'm sure traffic sucks right now."

Steve recognized the façade of not being bothered as the one Danny wore occasionally. Usually, Danny would let him know what was bothering him. Loudly. But, there were times when he donned the mask of being unbothered, and Steve had learned how to look through it. He looked through Eric's mask and saw a disappointed young man.

Three of the Wyverns standing off to the side busted up laughing, an odd cacophony of snorts, barks, and giggles. Eric peered around Steve, his brows crawling up his face to his hairline almost comically.

"Jessa?"

One of the Wyverns turned around, gray eyes darting around the tent before finally landing on Eric. "Ey, Eric! Ya finally made it."

Steve nudged Danny and whispered to him while subtly pointing to the Wyvern that was as tall as him as she made her way over, mindful of her folded wings and long tail. Danny's eyes widened.

"Sorry, mate, I got caught up talking. I was gonna meet ya outside the tent," she apologized and wrapped one wing around Eric in an awkward hug.

There was no mask now, and everyone could plainly read the shock and confusion on Eric's face which started to melt away into a smile.

"Yo, Monarch, you know these _haoles_?" Kamekona tilted his head meaningfully at Danny and Eric, the only non-natives of the Five-0 group.

"Duh. This is Eric and Mister Eric's Uncle," she rolled her eyes dramatically. "And that's GI Joe."

Steve blinked, realizing she was pointing at him with one wing. Danny stifled a chuckle.

"GI Joe was Army, I'm Navy," he corrected lightly. While the GI Joe moniker was tiresome, it was done in good sport, but he wasn't sure about her yet.

"Whoops, my bad," she bared sharp gleaming white teeth in a sheepish smile, her crinkling lips pushing her golden nose ring up. She held out the single claw on her right wing knuckle. "I'd introduce myself to ya with my real name, but here we all go by nicknames. I'm the Monarch."

He shook her claw. He didn't think she was called the Monarch because she looked like a butterfly, though her wings did have some vaguely butterfly-esque designs on them, but he would guess her name came from the several shades of royal purple on her scales and the bright golden yellow accents that shimmered every time she moved, like purple silks and gold jewelry in a castle.

"Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett," he said. If she was bad news, his full title might scare her away.

Which it didn't. "Awesome. Hey, come here, I want ya to meet my friends."

She crow hopped across the sand in excitement, leading them over to the other two Wyverns she had been talking with. Danny pressed up close against Eric.

"Bet you didn't know you were dating a Wyvern, huh?"

"I'd say it was a surprise," Eric nodded. "But not a horrible one. I guess that explains why she wasn't too freaked out when she saw me shift. She's around dragons all the time."

"Eric, this is my friend Wipeout," Jessa said. "And this is Bugs."

Wipeout was built lower to the ground than Jessa and Bugs, with what looked like huge, broad wings folded as tightly as she could fold them. Her scales rippled in ocean colors with turquoise mottling her face, fading to a deep blue down her back with sky blues and whites on her underside.

Bugs gave off the distinct impression of a jeweled wasp with his triangular head crowned with four long slender horns and two short ones, eyes so deep blue they were nearly black, and thin build. The pale almost translucent color of his wing membranes didn't help nor did the dark emerald greens and flashes of orange on his diamond shaped scales.

"S'up, dudes," Wipeout bobbed her head at them. She sounded like a California surfer chick and the nickname just made sense.

"Hello," Bugs also dipped his head at them, though his was a smoother and shallower motion. The single word was a bit hard to grab an accent from, but Steve estimated it to be something originating from West Africa.

"This is Eric, his Uncle Danny, and Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett," Jessa said, and then frowned. "And I don't know Mister Chiseled Marble standing back there so quietly I missed him."

"Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly," Chin supplied, shaking his head with an amused smirk at her nickname for him.

"And this is Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly," Jessa swept a wing out and encompassed them all.

The low rumble of a horn reverberated through the tent.

"And that would be the starting horn. C'mon, mate, you're not gonna want to miss this!" Jessa bounded out of the tent with the other Wyverns, leaving the humans to try and catch up.

* * *

Jessa had been right. There was nothing quite like it. Eric stood beside her, feeling very small amongst all the Wyverns standing on the beach. He counted eleven in total, but this was just for one competition. The competition which the announcer was taking forever to finally get to. He could feel Jessa bouncing next to him.

"I've been training for this one," she said. "I hold one of the fastest rock climbing records, but I've been trying to set an agility time. Got my butt whooped last year. Not this year, mate."

"So, you're supposed to fly this invisible course as fast as you can?" Eric waved a hand out at the ocean.

"It's more than just speed and agility. There're markers floating on the water where you're supposed to make your turns and such, so ya have to be a good tracker and ya have to fly close to the water. It's not easy," she rolled her neck and several vertebrae cracked. "Hydrate me."

Eric looked at her dumbfounded for a second until she gestured to the Zico can still in his hand. He hurriedly pulled the tab and then hesitated as she lowered her head with her mouth open. Carefully, he poured the coconut water in, caught between being fascinated by her acid green and purple tongue and being slightly scared of the thick, sharp teeth.

Can empty, he crushed it and raised a brow at her. "I sure hope you don't have to pee in the middle of your race."

"That was like a drop of liquid. I guarantee I'll probably wind up chugging five of those when I'm done," she grinned.

At last, the announcer finally got around to introducing the agility course. It was supposedly one of the harder competitions and challenged both mind and body, and with the weather conditions being slightly poor today, it would challenge the participants even more.

Eric glanced around. Steve, Danny, and Chin had split off from them once the starting horn blew, taking up their security positions by the spectators, the tents, and the beach. He could see his uncle watching the scene from the medical tent. In fact, he could see his uncle's eyes flick over to him quite often with…worry? Yeah, he was pretty sure that was worry.

His view was suddenly blocked by a shoulder of glittering emerald scales.

"Hello, Eric," Bugs greeted a bit stiffly. A small smile parted his lips. "Has Monarch been telling you she is going to beat me?"

Jessa's head flipped back in a laugh. "Oh, I'm gonna beat ya this year. Ya can kiss third place goodbye."

Bugs leaned down conspiratorially to mutter to Eric. "She is very talented at scaling rock walls, but not so much at cornering. You should have seen her practicing. She–"

"Ey! That stays between the two of us. Don't go airing my epic crash to him. He may not think I'm cool anymore," Jessa winked at Eric.

Not sure how to feel being caught in the friendly war between the two of them, Eric turned his head to the starting line further up the beach closer to the spectators.

"Hey, here's the first guy," he said.

Bugs and Jessa cocked their heads that way.

He let out a low whistle as the big black Wyvern lifted up into the sky. "That dude is scary."

"Yeah, that's Rhino," Jessa said.

"Can't imagine where he got that nickname," Eric mimicked the long horn on his nose with his hand.

Bugs grunted. "That man is a record breaker across most of the boards. I may very well be kissing my place goodbye even without Monarch's interference."

"Bloke broke the record for longest flight last year. Stayed in the air for forty-five hours. Almost two days straight," Jessa murmured, the fin along the back of her neck laying flat. Eric hadn't been around dragons enough to read fin, tail, or wing language, but guessed she wasn't pleased. "Almost knocked me outta second place last year in rock climbing, too."

"He has tried to take first in the fire breathing circle several years in a row, but Firefly still has more control over her breathing," Bugs added. "We are hoping his bulky wings will hinder him in the agility course and give one of us a chance to take the title this year."

They fell silent as the imposing shape of Rhino climbed higher and higher into the sky. He hovered there as a speck for a few moments. The horn blared and he dropped with his wings closed.

"He's gonna pick up a lot speed with his size," Jessa snorted. "That's gonna give him an edge."

"Speed is useless if you cannot control it," Bugs said.

Eric wanted to cover his face with his hands when it looked like he wasn't going to pull up in time to avoid smacking into the water like a rocket. However, he was never one to turn away from watching a train wreck. At the last second, huge wings snapped open and Rhino shot off over the water.

"Oh man, I thought he was going to eat it," he said. "You know, I've watched these things on YouTube, but it doesn't quite capture how high of a drop that was and how fast he's going."

"Ya should try flying it. It feels really fast then," Jessa nudged him.

"You have wings, my friend?" Bugs asked.

Eric swallowed and held up his hands, shaking his head. "No way. No wings here. Only got the scales and even if I had wings, I think Uncle D's right. While this is super cool and awesome, this is also really stupid dangerous and I would probably wind up killing myself trying it."

Bugs tsked at him and Jessa wrapped her wing around him. "Hey, if it's not your thing, it's not your thing. Ya like partying and going out for coffee, I like the adrenaline in my veins. And then together we have fun, right?"

"Terrifying fun," he confirmed, which earned a chuckle from both Wyverns. He squinted out at the water and pointed. "Uh…that's not right, is it? I mean, he's supposed to be flying the invisible course, not doing that, right?"

Jessa and Bugs both frowned. The other Wyverns on the shore muttered, looking confused as well.

Rhino had pivoted at one point, flapping and shaking his head. After he had gained some control back, he had changed course and was coming full speed back to the beach. His head kept shaking side to side, his flight path unsteady but sure. A loud, primal bellow split the air.

"Something is wrong with him," Bugs stepped back a few feet.

Eric was mesmerized by the growing black shadow that was Rhino as he approached the shore. Not by his build or wings or horns or whatever else people found attractive about dragons, but he was mesmerized for a scientific reason. The head shaking and unsteady flight path seemed familiar.

"Down, down!" Jessa shouted.

Without warning, a torrent of fire rained from Rhino's jaws.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Eric's skills as a forensic tech-in-training come in handy.**

 **Ehehehe. Wyverns seem to pop up around this time of year in this fic. Also, check out the art page for sketches of Jessa, Wipeout, Bugs, and Rhino.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! Also, thank you to the guest reviewers that I can't reply to directly. You're all awesome. :)**


	76. Fact 67 Part II

**Last of the side character adventure. :)**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #67: Being a dragon gives a whole new meaning to being extreme.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

 **Part II**

Sand flew into his eyes and mouth as Jessa tackled him to the ground. Eric could feel the heat as the fountain of fire passed over them and Jessa yelped. The beach erupted into a chaotic mess.

"Jessa, hey, hey, are you okay?" Eric bolted upright.

Bugs retracted his wing from over them and grabbed one of Jessa's horns, pulling her head down. "He singed a few of your fin spines. There does not appear to be much damage."

Jessa yanked her head away and pushed Eric behind her as Rhino crashed into the sand behind them. The other competitors backpedaled, a few running for the tents and the others forming a circle around the heavily built Wyvern as he gathered his wing knuckles under him.

"Rhino, have ya lost your damn mind?" Jessa yelled.

Rhino's head swiveled toward them, bright yellow eyes barely tracking. He shook his head violently.

"What is up with him?" Jessa muttered and glanced at Bugs and Eric.

"I have never heard of a dragon going feral for no reason. He may be a beast while competing, but he is a civil man," Bugs said.

Eric watched closely this time as the bright yellow eyes swept over them again. "I think he's drugged."

"Drugged?" Jessa echoed.

Rhino rose up on his hind feet, extended his wings, and roared at the confused crowd surrounding him. HPD and SWAT stood at the ready on the outer circle of Wyverns, waiting for there to be another show of aggression. Eric prayed they didn't have the weaponry to take down a Wyvern and that they didn't fire on him, because if he was right, this wasn't Rhino's fault and shooting at him may only provoke him.

"His pupils are huge," he said.

Rhino dropped back onto his wing knuckles. He shuddered and shook his head, and then promptly emptied his stomach. With a low, keening moan, he flopped onto his side.

"Pardon, pardon!"

What he now realized was a protective circle keeping the humans out and away parted to let a petite and colorful Wyvern through. She bounded over to Rhino with a graceful stride, hunching over him and speaking softly.

Eric started to move toward the downed competitor, but Jessa latched onto his shoulder.

"Where do ya think you're going?" she questioned.

"I want to talk to the medic," he said.

"What? Here you're telling me ya think this sport is dangerous and now ya want to get close to a drugged dragon? Bloody confusing, mate."

"Remember what I told you before? About how I'm studying to be a forensic tech? I'm pretty sure we went over a case study like this, like, barely two months ago," he said and gestured to the sprawled out Rhino. "Come on. I might be able to help."

Jessa reluctantly let go, but followed him over to the medic, who held up a rounded wing to keep them at bay.

"Stay back, _s'il vous plaît,_ " she said, a French lilt coloring her words.

"Hey, um, my name's Eric, I'm a forensic tech and, well, I'm in college to be one, anyway," he said.

The medic gave him a withering look.

He swallowed. "What do you think happened?"

"Are you Rhino's coach? No? Then no, I cannot talk to you," she said.

"C'mon, Sunset, listen to him. He's got an idea of what happened," Jessa said.

"Monarch, I have told you, I am no longer a competitor and my name is not Sunset," she griped as she continued to check over her patient.

Jessa stepped back and pulled Eric with her as Rhino twitched and slurred something in Russian. She sighed. "Fine. Adeline, he thinks he was drugged."

Adeline lifted an eyelid and cursed quietly. " _Oui_. I agree. I can push fluids on him to try to cleanse his system, but other than that, there is not much more I can do until I know what he was drugged with."

"Are you going to do that with bloodwork?" Eric asked.

"Unless you can do so without a tox screen," Adeline raised a brow incredulously at him. For such a small and gorgeously colored creature, she was slightly terrifying.

Rhino sat up abruptly, wide eyes darting around frantically. He raised one wing and raked his sharp knuckle claw down his face, his slurred Russian becoming more panicked.

"Rhino, Rhino, calm down, _s'il vous plaît_ ," Adeline reared up on her thin hind legs and reached for his claw as he started to draw blood. " _Je ne comprends pas._ I need someone who speaks Russian."

"Where's his coach?" Eric asked.

"He has what we call a passive coach. He's more of an agent and doesn't actually come to many of the competitions. I have a passive coach, too," Jessa explained.

As he looked around a lightbulb lit up. He brushed by her. "Uncle D knows Russian."

He squeezed between Bugs and another sleek Wyvern, and almost smacked right into his uncle on the other side of the formidable circle.

"Eric!" Danny snapped and pulled him into a hug. "Your mom would've killed me if you got roasted on my watch. Are you okay? Hey, don't lie to me, huh?"

"I'm fine, Uncle D, Jessa pretty much smashed me into the sand and covered me," Eric slipped out of his uncle's tight and worried embrace.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you come to this. Some kind of accident always happens at extreme sporting events, and then when you add dragons into the mix, especially fire breathing and flying ones, this happens."

Eric ignored the wild fluttering of both of his uncle's hands. "I think someone drugged Rhino, the big scary guy. But he keeps talking in Russian and the medic doesn't speak it."

Danny combed his hair back in exasperation. "Of course. I figured it would be Steve that would get me into a situation with the expectation of me speaking Russian to get us out of it. I don't speak it fluently, Eric, okay? I only know some because of that case–"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, the Brighton Beach case," he nodded and headed back for the ring of Wyverns. "Come on, a little's better than nothing."

Danny grumbled, but followed him. Bugs stepped aside slightly to let them through.

"Adeline, this is Detective Williams, he knows some Russian," Eric introduced.

" _Merci_ , Detective," Adeline had gotten Rhino to lay back on the ground, all the fight and fire having been drained out of him, but the muttering was still present and he had his wing claws covering his eyes.

Danny puffed his cheeks out with a breath and crouched beside the large and imposing head. " _Minya zavoot_ _Danny. Kak vashi dila?_ "

Upon hearing his native tongue, Rhino lifted one claw from his face and stared at Danny with a dilated pupil. He murmured. Danny had to lean down to hear it clearly and when he did, his forehead creased in confusion.

"What is it, Detective?" Adeline asked.

"Hold on, hold on," Danny massaged his forehead. "I think he said _nasekomyye_. That's what that old schmuck in the bar used to call the cockroaches. It means insects."

Adeline, Jessa, Eric, and Danny all turned to look at Bugs. The slender Wyvern cocked his head to the side in confusion. "What? Why are you looking at me?"

Eric dropped to his haunches next to Danny. "I bet he's hallucinating. You know, like he sees bugs crawling across him."

"Okay, so that sounds like LSD or angel dust, but neither one of those work very well in dragons, they just metabolize it too fast," Danny said.

"What about raw Devil's Tongue?" he said.

Danny raised a brow and shared a look with the medic.

" _D'accord_ , unprocessed Devil's Tongue would cause these symptoms," Adeline sighed. "I will get him started on saline. It should help him metabolize it quicker."

Danny, Eric, Jessa, and the other Wyverns stepped back to let Adeline and the human medics get Rhino on the specially made gurney which they used to drag him over to the medical tent.

Danny put his arm around Eric's shoulders. "Hey, you did good."

Eric felt a smile starting and then it melted at his uncle's next words.

"Only problem is, how did he ingest raw Devil's Tongue?"

* * *

There was a certain admiration Eric had for his uncle and his team. When he was little, he pretty much idolized Danny because he wore a badge and uniform and had been ornery but kind to him. Even better yet, his grandpa was a fireman. Didn't get much better than that in the eyes of a five year old.

Of course, at his current age, his admiration was stemming from something different than hero worship. This was the field he was trying to get involved in. Well, not the getting shot or attacked by psychos or mauled by dragons part hopefully. Right now, he was admiring how calm Chin was remaining.

"So?" he asked.

Chin shook his head. "People aren't too happy when they think they're under suspicion."

"But if Rhino didn't take the Devil's Tongue himself, someone must have doped him," Eric followed alongside the older man as he headed back out of the catering tent.

"Raw Devil's Tongue isn't a performance enhancer. There'd be no reason for him to take it," Chin said. He swept his eyes over the other competitors, their families and friends, and their coaches. "You said that he's been breaking records?"

"Yeah. They said he broke the longest flight last year and was going for the agility and fire breathing ones this year," Eric crossed his arms over his chest. "You think it was sabotage?"

"There's a decent amount of money involved, plus recognition and fame," Chin said, and continued walking.

Eric glanced around. The HPD and SWAT had locked the beach down after Rhino's surprise attack, pushing the spectators back. Unfortunately, the commotion had only drawn in more people, even ones who weren't ticket holders and were crowding around the perimeter.

"You two get anything?"

He turned as Danny and Steve walked up to them.

"Kamekona swears no one was in there tampering with the food or drink. And I believe him. If someone had dumped raw Devil's Tongue in any of that stuff in there, we'd have more cases than just one," Chin said.

"That's great and all, because believe me when I honestly say that one raging Wyvern is enough, but it also means we have to keep looking and the officials only agreed to shut it down for another hour," Danny said, hands waving around at the mess of people and dragons wandering around the beach.

Steve set his hands on his hips. "We talked to some of the competitors that were standing on the beach and their stories all corroborate with Eric's account."

"There was a lot of mumbling about Rhino, too," Danny said. He gestured toward a few of the other Wyverns standing clustered together farther down by the locker room tents. "Apparently, he was a nice guy, but no one liked how he was planning on taking the record in almost every competition."

"What're you thinking? The current record holders?" Chin asked.

Steve nodded. "At least the ones from the competitions he was planning on taking first in this year."

"Okay, so that would be Firefly for the fire breathing, and…?" Eric furrowed his brows and held up his hands. Admittedly, though he enjoyed watching some of the competitions, he wasn't versed in who was on top.

"Bugs for tracking and Hurricane for the agility course," Steve said.

Eric frowned. "Bugs seemed like he didn't have any idea what was going on when Rhino started acting weird."

"Can't rule anyone out, E-Train," Steve said.

Eric supposed that was fair. Bugs gave him a little bit of the creeps, and it had sounded like he was worried about Rhino knocking him out of position in the agility course. "You know, Devil's Tongue goes to the head pretty quick. However he wound up eating it, it couldn't have been too long before the competition started."

"He landed in front of us and went into the catering tent, but I didn't see him in there when we left," Chin said.

"Maybe he slipped out? Went to the locker room or something. Left to do some stretches or whatever so he didn't hurt himself with that crazy skydive he did," Danny said.

Steve pivoted toward the collection of color coordinated people near one of the tents. "If we can find his coach–"

"Jessa said he has a passive coach," Eric interrupted.

Chin nodded in understanding while Steve and Danny looked vaguely confused. "How well does Jessa know Rhino?"

Eric shrugged. "I dunno. I can go talk to her."

"Hey, just don't let her know too much, huh?" Danny said.

Eric read his face loud and clear. His suspicion of Jessa was plain and unhidden now, and it kind of irritated him. "She's cool, Uncle D. She wouldn't do this."

He walked away from them up the shoreline. His feet sunk in the sand with each step and he regretted wearing tennis shoes instead of sandals. He'd be bringing half the beach home with him in his socks at this rate.

Jessa was easy to pick out of the group of Wyverns with her royal purples and vivid golden yellows. She was also one of the only ones with a fin on her neck instead of a ridge of thick scales.

"Jes–Monarch!" he called.

She peeled away from the others and bounded over to him. "Ey. What's up?"

"Do you know where Rhino was right before the agility competition started?" he asked bluntly, still slightly miffed his uncle was so suspicious of Jessa.

"Probably his section in the locker room tent," she said. Her brows lowered while the fin on her neck rose. "Ya think someone purposely slipped him some of the Mad Hatter's tea?"

His brain had to come to a complete halt in order to struggle with that term. "Some of the Mad Hatter's tea?"

Jessa smirked. "Yeah. That's what my family always called raw Devil's Tongue."

He mirrored her smirk. The more he thought about, the more appropriate it seemed. His smirk slid off his face. "Can you show me his section in the locker room?"

"Yeah, c'mon," she said and headed that way.

He followed, eyes drawn to how she walked. Wyverns had such an odd gait when they were on the ground. Some were smoother than others, almost walking completely on their hind legs without the need to use their wings like some kind of primeval raptor, while the majority shuffled and bounced around like bats. Jessa did a lot of crow hopping.

Briefly, Eric wondered if any of his time here today with all of these Wyverns would serve as an advantage in his forensic classes. Or even in his future job as a forensic tech. He was willing to bet no one in any of his classes had been this close to dragons, let alone that they shared DNA with a Cliff or was a dragon themselves.

"Ya know, a lot of us may not have liked how well Rhino was doing breaking records, but we wouldn't do this," Jessa murmured as they crossed the threshold of the locker room tent.

"Sorry, babe. We're just doing our jobs," Eric said.

"Yeah, I know," she sighed heavily.

"Monarch! This is the men's locker room," a man glared at them from around one of the partitions. He was thankfully fully clothed and looked to be a coach with his color coordinated emerald green jacket and ballcap.

"Got eyes Jay, I can see that, thanks," Jessa snapped.

"So, you shouldn't be in here," Jay puffed his chest up, but Jessa's head still towered above his especially when she drew herself up tall.

"Why? Afraid I might sneak a peek at your junk?" she barked out a sharp laugh. It wasn't the friendly snort and warm laugh Eric had grown used to. She turned to him and tilted her head. "Rhino's section is right there."

"Hey, hey, you can't be poking around in there," Jay attempted to stop Eric, but Jessa intercepted him.

"He's part of Five-0, mate," she said. "Why are ya so jumpy, anyway? Got somethin' to hide?"

Eric started to examine the neatly kept stall, careful not to touch anything. It was all too easy to contaminate a crime scene on accident. He kept one ear tuned into the conversation, though.

"Monarch, are you for real? There's a reason we have the locker rooms and it's to give privacy to the competitors. Keep their human identities safe," Jay said. There was a pause. "Plus, I'm worried about Bugs. What if someone had doped him?"

"He's fine, Jay," Jessa said.

"I need to keep a better eye on him. With him being the top tracker right now and rising through the ranks for the agility course, he's an easy target," Jay said.

"I know you're just being a good coach, but Bugs doesn't need a babysitter."

Something in his gut twisted. The more of the conversation he heard, the more Bugs seemed like a viable suspect. He had also just found a piece of evidence that pointed at someone else.

* * *

"Bugs–"

"No. I do not want to hear it. You are about to ask me where I was right before the agility competition started. I was standing right there in the catering tent. You saw me."

Eric had relayed the conversation and the empty Zico can he had found to the three Five-0 officers. Now, Chin and Bugs were having a stare down while Danny and Steve were ruffling Jessa's feathers. Thoroughly.

"Are ya bloody joking?!"

He glanced down the beach. Jessa had one wing out and was speaking animatedly to his uncle in a quieter tone than before. He scrubbed a hand through his hair in frustration. The thing between him and Jessa was barely a week old, and he knew it was impossible to get to know someone in that short amount of time, and yet he couldn't bring himself to believe she had done this. Screw the Zico can. Lots of people liked Zico. It could have belonged to anybody.

"That is your evidence?" Bugs brought his attention back to the conversation going on closer to him. "I am a suspect because my stall in the locker room is next to his?"

"And you're the top tracker, a position he was going to try and take this year," Chin said.

"But how could I have done this? I was in the locker room early this morning and have not been in there since," Bugs said. The spiny scales on the back of his neck pressed close together and his long tail switched back and forth. "I am a man of honor, Lieutenant. I win because I am dedicated to the sport, not because I cheat. If Rhino would have beaten me this year, I would have congratulated him and then practiced harder, so I could reclaim my title next year."

Chin held up a hand in a placating gesture. "Okay. We're just trying to figure out how he was drugged. Do all of you get your food and drink from the caterer?"

"Food, yes, mostly," Bugs sat back on his haunches, looking like a gargoyle perched on the corner of a skyscraper. "Some of us prefer to bring our own beverages. Monarch, Rhino, Wipeout, Kestrel, and Thunderhead all like those coconut waters in the cans. I bring my own water I have steeped with mint."

Chin cast Eric a look. Jessa may have been off the hook if that many competitors all drank Zico, not to mention ones like Wipeout and Kestrel were in competitions Rhino was planning on taking first in this year. He let out a breath of air he didn't realize he'd been holding in. Maybe she really was just an adrenaline junkie and not a criminal.

A thought started to seep into his mind. He tapped Chin's shoulder and leaned in close to his ear. "What about coaches?"

"Bugs, stay here," Chin said. He led Eric out of earshot, hopefully out of earshot, it was hard to guess the range of a dragon's hearing. "What're you thinking, Eric?"

"Jessa said some of them have passive coaches, but some of them don't. Bugs' coach was in the locker room and really didn't want me or Jessa taking a look at Rhino's section. I mean, it could be nothing, but–"

"We may be looking at the wrong people," Chin looked up and waved the others over. He clapped a hand on Eric's shoulder. "Hey, you're pretty good at this. You sure you don't want to be a cop?"

Eric shook his head. "No way, I'd prefer to not get shot at. Have you seen how grumpy Uncle D gets when he has a bullet hole in him? I'd rather present the evidence to you guys and have you go catch the bad guys. That way I get to solve cases without the risk of messing up my good looks."

Chin smiled at him. "You're going to make a great forensic tech."

High from the approval of a brilliant and experienced lieutenant, Eric couldn't help the smug grin as Danny and Steve came back over with a fuming Jessa tailing behind them.

"Eric's got a theory," Chin said.

After explaining to them what he thought, he agreed to hang back with Bugs and Jessa while the other three entered the locker room tent. He had meant it when he said he didn't want to get shot. He was content with presenting facts and setting things like this into motion.

Jessa's head was suddenly very close to his. "I don't think your uncle likes me."

"He's just a worrier. I think he doesn't like how I didn't tell him about our surfing adventure until he saw the bruises. I don't think it's personal. He's just, oh, I don't know, paranoid and stuff from being a cop for so long. You see a lot of freaky people in that job, you know?" he glanced up at her.

A crooked smile tugged at her lips. "Well, I didn't mean to almost not bring ya home on Wednesday."

"Jessa," Bugs said softly.

Eric and Jessa both eyed him at the use of her real name over her nickname.

"They think it was Jay," he continued just as softly. "Do you think…?"

Jessa spread her wing over him and hugged him close to her. "Mate, I don't know. You know Jay and I never got along, so I'm probably not the best person to ask."

Eric wanted to add something to that, but at that moment the emerald green clothed Jay streaked out from under the edge of the locker room tent. He was headed directly for the crowd of spectators. If he got in among them and ditched his recognizable jacket and ballcap, he'd be difficult to locate again.

He cupped his hand around his mouth as his uncle burst out of the tent. "That way!"

Sand pelted him as Bugs leapt into the air. With three wingbeats he was able to close the distance between them and Jay. Eric and Jessa started running. They were close enough to feel the downdraft as Bugs tackled his coach to the ground.

The Five-0 team surrounded them with their guns drawn.

Bugs had Jay pinned under his spindly hind talons, one foot keeping him down easily. "Why would you do this, Jay? Why?!"

"Bugs, calm down, mate," Jessa inched toward him, wide eyes watching the three Five-0 officers with their guns, but also the HPD and SWAT weapons that were trained on them now.

"I trusted you! We have been together for years, working together, winning together!" Bugs yelled. The clear nictitating membrane slid across his dark eyes, enhancing the monstrous nature he was exuding.

"Bugs, stand down," Steve ordered.

Bugs didn't want to, Eric could see it. He didn't think he wanted to kill his coach, either. He was torn. Slowly, Eric approached and could practically sense his uncle about to have a heart attack.

"Eric!"

"Bugs, come on, man, it's not worth it," he said. "You see these guys, my uncle over there? You know what Five-0's known for?"

Dark eyes shifted slightly to glance at the officers surrounding them.

"They never let the bad guy get away. Jay here? He's going to get his comeuppance, okay? But you've gotta stand down, man," he said.

Bugs blinked and exhaled. He removed himself off of Jay, allowing Chin to rush in to cuff him. Bugs butted his head against Jessa's.

"That man was like family," he hissed.

Crisis averted, Eric scooted away from the interaction. He was not a part of that circle of friends and felt he didn't have any business being involved in what had happened. What he was a part of, though, was the Five-0 _ohana_.

Danny grabbed his arm. "Are you actively trying to give me gray hairs? Or maybe we'll just skip that part and go straight for the heart attack, hmm?"

"I'm sorry," he said.

Danny rolled his eyes and pulled him into a firm hug. "You did good, kid. Just…don't tell your mom, huh?"

* * *

 _Six days later…._

By Thursday the whole competition was done and over with. In some ways it was a relief, because he didn't have to worry about sabotage or watching his girlfriend, yes, girlfriend, act like a madwoman with her aerial stunts and psychotic rock climbing.

Now, all he had to do was send her off at the airport.

"All the way back to Australia, huh?" he repeated for the fifth time.

"Yes, that is where I'm from. Glad ya can remember," Jessa flashed him her crooked smile.

"Guess we won't see each other for a while, then," he said. He cocked a brow at her. "Unless you fly into Jersey sometime."

"How about ya come to Melbourne instead?" she countered. "Or we could meet somewhere in the middle. I think the Wyverns are going to be somewhere in the Andes next year."

"Or, you know, we could just text," he waggled his phone.

She snorted and laughed, and then slung her arms around his neck. "I had fun. Even if your uncle doesn't like me."

Eric glanced back at Danny standing by the doors. "He can be a bit curmudgeonly."

She shook her head and looked back over her shoulder at the line for security. "I better get through that thing before it gets too long. Take care of yourself, Eric Russo. And have an adventure on me, yeah?"

"Hey, don't kill yourself doing something stupid, okay?" he shot back as she slung her carry-on over her shoulder.

"What? Me? This is a world champion rock climber you're talking to, mate!" she laughed. She tipped two fingers at him and waved at Danny before disappearing into the crowd around security.

Eric wandered over to his uncle.

"Come on, Romeo, Steve's going to be wondering where we are," Danny led them out through the doors.

He cast one last look back and then followed him.

"Hey," Danny put his arm around his shoulders. "You know I only didn't like her because I was worried she'd get you hurt, right?"

"I can take care of myself, Uncle D," he said. He sighed. "But, she was pretty cool. Like, super insane, but cool."

"The insane ones grow on you, no?" Danny smirked at him.

Eric returned it. "I hear Steve's a pretty good griller."

"Oh, sure, if you like pineapple on everything," Danny's hand danced out.

"Are you serious? Are the hamburgers and hotdogs going to be plastered with pineapple?" he made a face.

"Welcome to Hawaii, babe."

* * *

 **And so wraps up Eric's adventure.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", a short segment on why it's a bad idea to tango with someone you don't know is a dragon.**

 **Okay, guys. Question. What do you think scares Steve? Not like that deep psychological fear (losing Danny, something happening to Mary, Wo Fat dismantling Five-0, you get the gist), but something you'd think he'd jump at if he saw it? Like, a rat or scorpion or whatever. I'm drawing up short. It's for a funny chapter.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	77. Fact 68

**A nice, funny one.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #68: Never tango with a sea monster and expect to come out on top.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

The punch landed directly across Steve's jaw. His head snapped to the side, giving his attacker enough time to tackle him through the patio doors in a glittering explosion of glass shards. They crashed into the furniture setting by the pool, scattering the table and chairs. Steve brought his feet up and kicked the guy off him.

John Wellers, their murderous and thieving perp, was the manifestation of a bull that had decided to stand up on two legs and call itself a man. Easily having six inches on Steve and weighing close to two of him, it hadn't been much of a fight when he had surprised him in the villa and knocked his gun away.

It still didn't appear to be much of fight as Steve sprung up and swung a fist at him. Wellers caught it in his monstrous hand like a baseball, almost crushing it in his grip. He clamped his meaty fingers around the straps of his tac vest and heaved him, and then flung him into the deep end of the pool with a splash.

Steve popped up and sucked in a breath. He was plunged under again by Wellers as he physically jumped on top of him and held him down by the shoulders. Size and weight definitely had the advantage this time.

"And when I'm done with you, I'm gonna get that shrimp partner of yours," Weller howled. The water churned and frothed around him from the thrashing Commander, but he just gritted his teeth and held on tighter. "Rotten Five-0, always poking your nose in where it doesn't belong."

The bubbles gradually quit rising to the surface and the struggling started to still. Wellers bared his teeth in a madman's grin. He glanced up at the second story of the villa, wondering where the other one had gone. That one would be much easier to take care of.

The shoulders he was latched onto slipped out of his grip and a solid mass crotched him. Suddenly, he was rising out of the water and a crown of horns broke the surface in front of him. A slender face full of teeth craned around to look at him.

"You're under arrest," Steve snarled.

Wellers yelled as a webbed foot wrapped around his leg and yanked him off the dragon's back. Steve pulled himself up onto the patio and dragged Wellers out of the pool. He rolled him onto his stomach, kept one large foot on him, and waited for his partner.

"I turn my back for five seconds and you shift. Imagine that," Danny crowed. He stepped through the shattered patio doors gingerly and tucked his gun back into its holster.

"He was trying to drown me," Steve huffed and flicked his tail around, shooting water droplets at his partner.

"Hey, hey!" Danny wiped a hand down his face as he crouched next to the thoroughly trapped Wellers. He pulled his cuffs out. "You know, I understand you to some extent. The sudden urge to drown this buffoon has come upon me every once in a while. But let me tell you your big mistake, huh? This guy here is a Navy SEAL."

"And a dragon!" Wellers barked.

Danny waved him off. He continued as he pulled his hands behind his back. "That's irrelevant, because dragon or not, water is his natural element and buddy, you pretty much screwed yourself when you threw him in the pool."

"Everyone in prison is gonna know about you, McGarrett," Wellers spat. "I'm gonna tell 'em."

"Right. They're going to believe you when you tell them that the head of Five-0 is actually a seven and a half foot tall Arboreal/Amphibian dragon and that you survived the encounter without a scratch on you," Danny nodded. "Get up. Come on."

He pushed Wellers to his feet and shoved him along the side of the house to the backyard gate with Steve trailing close behind, playing the part of the monster quite well. Once Wellers was all hunched over and cramped in the backseat of the Camaro, much to Danny's amusement, he turned to his partner.

"Go shift and put your clothes on, you Neanderthal," he shooed him away.

Steve smirked as he popped the trunk, a comical sight with how big he was compared to the car. "Book 'em, Danno."

"You're not funny. You think you are, but you're not."

Steve grinned and grabbed his duffle bag of spare clothes. "You love it."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Steve starts something with Danny and learns to regret it.**

 **I have been in a whirlwind in both real life and writing life. I have an idea, but I'm not sure it'll pull through. It would be some extended universe type of fics that take place in various other fandoms that would go up on the art page for those that are interested, but like I said I'm not sure if I'll get my crap together enough to get something like that done.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! It means oodles to me. :)**


	78. Fact 69

**Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

 **Key:** _Steve,_ ** _Danny_ , **_Chin_

* * *

 **Fact #69: Some dragons once acted as couriers by carrying high priority and top secret messages. Some dragons keep up the tradition today in a simplified form.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

Let it never be said that Steve didn't learn from his mistakes, even if Danny argued otherwise. Being a Navy SEAL meant he had to adapt to ever changing circumstances and what worked one day wouldn't work the next. The same was true of leading Five-0. While the instructor for this class wasn't Miss Kalawai'a, he would rather not become the center of attention again.

He flicked the folded square of paper down the table. It slid into Danny's elbow.

 _Did you call your contact about that anonymous tip?_

Steve watched his partner out of his peripheral as he read his note and scribbled something underneath it. The folded square came sliding back up the table toward him.

 _ **Don't even start this with me, Steven. It's your fault we're stuck in this class instead of working the case.**_

He scowled, scribbled on the paper, and flicked it again.

 _I didn't do anything!_

The paper returned promptly.

 _ **Neanderthal.**_

Steve tapped his pen on the paper as he listened to the instructor drone on about proper procedure. He was pretty sure this had nothing to do with him and was more than likely part of the Governor's community service punishment he'd set them up with to help sate Captain Grover's objections about how they got away with everything.

He'd rather be working their current case, however small and unimportant it seemed, than be slowly bored to death.

A piece of paper skidded to a halt perfectly by his hand.

 _ **The CI didn't have much for me, and yes, I did use a carrot and a stick with him. All he could give me was a loose description of the schmuck.**_

 _Better than nothing. Description?_

 _ **Ninja.**_

Steve glanced around Chin with a raised brow. Danny resolutely ignored him, staring straight ahead at the instructor even though Steve was one hundred percent sure his partner didn't need any sort of refresher course on proper procedure. He nagged him about it enough that he should know it by heart.

 _What do you mean ninja?_

 _ **Dressed all in black. I told you it was a crap description. Now shut up.**_

 _I'm not even talking._

Steve managed to go a few minutes without passing another note. This instructor was far less concerned with whether or not those in attendance were actually paying attention, but with how quiet the class was, talking was not an option. And yes, he was sure this could count as some kind of torture technique. He could feel his brain draining out of his ears.

 _Want to go to Kamekona's after this?_

 _ **Only if you're buying.**_

 _Ditto._

He scrunched his brows at the extra hand writing on the note. The small smirk on Chin's face told him that he had intercepted it before it got back to him. He grinned. This was much better than talking.

* * *

Later, he would have to admit that the note passing was not better than talking and that he had made a mistake taking it as far as it went. It started small, with him leaving a sticky note on the Camaro's wheel telling Danny it needed gas. Next, it was a note on the breakroom fridge from Danny telling him to buy regular water and not coconut water. It eventually got out of hand from there.

Steve slumped into the swivel chair in his office with a deep sigh. After not quite nailing his landing tackling their suspected burglar to the ground an hour prior, his joints were protesting.

He opened his laptop and frowned at the fluorescent yellow sticky note.

 _ **I'm not filling out this report for you. You get to be the one this time to try and figure out how to tell the Governor that, while there was an easy way to bring Cohen in, you decided to tackle him off a balcony into a pool and almost drown him.**_

Come on. It's not like Danny filled out all his reports. He'd gotten much better since his first year of being a cop. Granted, he probably did hand these more difficult ones off to his partner since he seemed to have a better way with words and made situations sound not as bad as they had been.

He glared at the screen while he partially filled out the report. This was the part of the job he disliked the most. He'd rather catch the bad guys and be done with it. Why they needed to write a novel for every collar was beyond him. Don't get him wrong, he understood why, he just didn't want to do it.

Finally admitting defeat and the need of his partner's expansive vocabulary, he pushed away from his desk and wandered over to Danny's office. No one was in there, but a bright yellow sticky note stuck to the glass door stared him in the face.

 _ **You finally realized that you need to utilize my persuasive words and impressive vernacular in order to complete your report, didn't you? Well, I have some bad news, babe, you need to be a big boy and do this one by yourself. There's a dictionary in the top drawer of my desk if you need one.**_

He ripped the note off the door and snorted. He didn't think he needed a dictionary, he needed his partner's penchant for talking circles around people. He decided to leave him a note of his own.

Not seeing any pads of sticky notes on his partner's desk, he pulled open the drawer he knew he kept his pens and highlighters in. To his amazement, yet another note was there.

 _ **No. You can't use my sticky notes.**_

Steve glanced around the office in bewilderment. Danny was a good detective, but he wasn't psychic. He pulled open a few other drawers just to see if he had left the same note everywhere so that no matter what drawer he opened he would have gotten the same note.

 _ **And no, I didn't shotgun my notes. I know you better than you think, Mr. Naval Intelligence.**_

"Damn, Danno," he muttered.

Thoroughly awed and concerned at the notes, he stalked over toward Chin's office to see if he knew where Danny had gotten off to. Another sticky note sat directly eye level on Chin's office door, but was white rather than yellow.

 _Danny went to get coffee. I'm picking up evidence from the crime lab._

He shook his head. When had the tables turned to where he was the civilian and his coworkers were the ninjas? His frown deepened at the second half of the note.

 _You can't use my sticky notes, either._

Wanting to throw his hands in the air, he went back to his office and sat down. He'd never had a huge use for sticky notes, but since he had started this ridiculous thing, he had better find some. Pulling open his desk drawers in search of at least a few, he halted and stared with wide eyes at the dictionary in his bottom drawer.

 _ **Ha. I knew you wouldn't take it out of my desk, so I left it in yours. I marked a page just for you.**_

He flipped to the dog-eared page and wasn't sure whether to laugh or growl. Under the Gs there was another sticky note with an arrow pointing to a picture of a gorilla.

 _ **Long lost relative?**_

"That's it," he slammed the book shut. Two could play at this game.

* * *

Danny ran his hands through his hair. He hadn't been exactly sure how Steve was going to react to the notes that he had planted around the office yesterday, but he definitely had not been expecting this.

There were sticky notes _everywhere_ in his house. How did the animal even get in without him hearing him?

They started in his bathroom with: _A two-in-one shampoo and conditioner is faster_ and _Seriously? What kind of TP is this? Half-ply?_

Went to his bedroom with: _You need cargo pants. They're more effective than slacks_ and _Holy crap, why do you have so many ties? You don't even wear ties anymore._

Then proceeded to his living room: _How come when you watch my place you're a disaster and then when you're at home your house is spotless?_

To his kitchen where the majority of them had gathered: _Don't forget the Camaro needs gas_ and _Why do you have so much junk food?_ and _Really? You should try some local coffee instead of this Columbian stuff_ and _You need more milk_ and _Bring this case of beer over tonight. I'm grilling._

He exhaled steadily and crossed his arms over his chest, drumming his fingers on his bicep. "You're going to regret this, you Neanderthal ninja."

* * *

Steve walked into the office feeling pretty proud of himself. Not only had they captured their burglar that morning, but he had successfully infiltrated Danny's house that night and left notes everywhere. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to reap whatever he had sowed as his partner was just getting back into doing field work with his shoulder and had thus been left at the office while he and Chin tracked down their perp. He'd barely seen him all morning.

He peered into Danny's office and cautiously stepped in, ready for the tirade.

Danny looked up at him. "That had better be scampi."

Steve set the plastic bag with the takeout container on his desk warily. "Yeah. Chin and I stopped by Kamekona's before coming back."

"Good, because I'm starving," Danny said. He pulled the container out and popped the lid. He stabbed the plastic fork into the shrimp and glanced up at him curiously when he didn't leave. "What? Why are you loitering in my office?"

"I…uh…." Steve stumbled around for words. He had expected Hurricane Danny to descend on him for the sticky notes, but quickly decided the ultra calm and unbothered Danny was far more unsettling. "We caught Cohen's partner."

Danny nodded indulgently. "I heard. You even managed to do it without shooting or maiming him in anyway. I'm proud of you, babe."

"It was fairly straight forward," he said. When Danny said nothing else and only shoveled some food into his mouth, he ducked out of his office.

Chin raised a brow at him.

Steve shook his head, still not entirely sure what had just happened and how he felt about it. It was only fun to do things to Danny if he got a rise out of him. When he acted like nothing had happened at all it wasn't as satisfying.

He pushed open the door to his office and stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw almost hit the floor.

"Danny!"

Chin shot a look at Danny sitting in his office wearing the broadest smile he'd ever seen. He'd have to ask him how he had managed to cover almost every flat surface in Steve's office with sticky notes in only a few hours.

* * *

 **Ehehehe. Sticky notes. There was a last minute switcheroo with the chapters.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", never go into the woods at night. You can't see in the dark, you can't run in the dark, you can't hide in the dark. Something's already there in the dark.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	79. Fact 70

**Anything from Cryo Chamber on YouTube is recommended. Possibly their "Music From Ancient Civilizations to Space" collection.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #70: There is a reason there are many tales about staying out of the dark woods.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

He'd finally done it this year. Always the enterprising man, Kamekona had been keeping his ear close to the ground since last October, waiting until he heard something promising. At long last, a cousin of one of Flippa's friends had finally agreed to let him set up shop on his expansive jungle property for one week.

Kamekona grinned at the families sitting at the picnic tables softly illuminated by hanging fairy lights, tiki torches, and a few carved pumpkins. Of course, his shrimp truck was parked there to feed the hungry masses. It was the night before Halloween, and yet he was pleasantly surprised at all the fully dressed creepers filtering in, some lumbering up to order food before going into the supposedly haunted jungle and others eagerly buying tickets from Flippa at the entrance.

"Howzit, bruddah?"

He turned toward Chin and hugged him briefly. "Shoots, you know I've been wanting to do this for years an' could never find the property."

Chin glanced at the trailhead where guests were being permitted through in small groups with about five minutes between each group. Kamekona had a decent reputation and had attracted a larger crowd than most would have thought would show up in the dark jungle at night.

"You got guys hiding in the woods ready to scare the daylights out of all these people?" Chin asked, shaking his head and smiling.

"A few. I'm counting on the anticipation of getting scared to do most of the work," he answered. He leaned in closer. "Plus, I don't want parents suing me for giving their _keiki_ nightmares."

Chin laughed softly. "So, where's your costume?"

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow night," Kamekona waggled his eyebrows at him. "I'm guessing you're a cop this year."

"Can't be too careful," Chin patted the holstered gun on his hip.

"You didn't drag my two favorite _haoles_ with you?"

"They stayed down closer to town. We're just waiting for the calls to start."

A couple of screams echoed out of the jungle. Chin flinched instinctively, but let his guard drop when peels of laughter followed the screams. He eyed the crowd waiting to go into the jungle. While the crime rate didn't drastically increase on Halloween, alcohol related issues and just generally weird disturbances seemed to become more apparent. He'd volunteered to be another set of eyes up here in case a guest came in roaring drunk or high as a kite. Not that Kamekona couldn't handle someone like that.

A woman approached and tapped Kamekona on the shoulder. "Um, excuse me."

"Hey, howzit, sistah?" Kamekona smiled at her.

She nervously grinned back. "Hi. I, uh, I scare easy and so I let my friend take my daughter into the jungle because she was super excited for it and I was just, um, wondering how long does it take to get through the trail?"

"About fifteen minutes, sometimes less if they're running scared," Kamekona said and gently set a hand on her shoulder. "You okay? They been gone long?"

The woman nodded, still nervously wringing her hands. "They've been gone for, um, almost half an hour, and I know I'm probably just being stupid and a worrier, but, um, I don't if you could, um, see if they're lost or something?"

Chin stepped up to her. "Ma'am, I'm Lieutenant Kelly with the Five-0 Taskforce. Do you have a description?"

The woman practically deflated at hearing he was a cop. "My baby girl, Sally, she's six, short for her age, and dressed in a raggedy dress. My friend Tanya, she's almost twenty, and her boyfriend Cooper have those shirts with the ribcages on them and the skeleton gloves. I'm, um, I'm really sorry if this is all some wild goose chase, but I'm just worried, you know?"

"Don't worry. I'll go look for them," Chin assured her before turning to Kamekona. "You may want to hold up the line while I'm looking."

"The trail's lit with little lanterns. Should be pretty easy to follow," Kamekona said.

Cutting around the crowd which earned him a few complaints, Chin set off on the dark trail while Kamekona talked to Flippa quietly. Their voices as they explained to the guests what was going on faded the deeper he walked into the jungle.

The trail was wide and easy to navigate, most likely because Kamekona didn't want anyone to get hurt tripping over roots or falling in a ditch. Though it defeated the purpose of trail, Chin pulled his flashlight out and flicked it on. Its cold white beam scattered the darkness better than the warm glowing lanterns on the trail.

"Mmblargha!"

A mask wearing, axe wielding person darted from between two trees at him. In one swift movement his gun was in his hand. The person yelped and dropped the axe with their hands up in the air.

Chin huffed out a breath, glad he wasn't a shoot first, ask questions later type. "It's okay. I'm a real cop."

The person ripped their mask off with a sigh of relief. "Man, I was worried for a second."

"We think some people may have gotten lost on the trail," Chin said as he tucked his gun away. "Have you seen two teens and a little girl come through here?"

"I've seen a lot of people come through here," the man answered, scratching at his head.

"They've been in here for half an hour."

"I bet it was the skeleton couple, they had a little girl with them. Yeah, they came through, I scared them, and then they went down the trail," the man pointed at the lanterns twisting and winding away further through the jungle.

"Thanks."

He continued on. Maybe they had been slow moving, or maybe they had already exited and the mom hadn't seen them. Or they could have wandered off the trail, even though it seemed like it would have been hard to accidentally do that. Then again, teenagers had a penchant for straying off the beaten path even when they had little kids with them. Chin may have been guilty of doing something like that with Kono when he had been a teenager in charge of his cousin.

A couple tattered sheets with button eyes bounced on ropes from a tree branch overhanging the trail, an admittedly realistic looking zombie almost scared him out of his skin, and he passed by a few tombstones with corny names like Tom B. Stone, Mort U. Ary, and Sam E. Terry scrawled on them. It wasn't until he got to the Grim Reaper that he started to get concerned.

"Sorry, brah, haven't seen a skeleton couple or raggedy girl come through," the tall, looming shadow shook his painted face and leaned against his scythe.

"Mind going down and telling Kamekona that they may be lost?" Chin asked.

"Sure, dude, no problem. You going to keep looking?"

Chin inhaled and glanced back the way he had come. "Yeah."

He walked back up the hill, flashlight sweeping across the ground, specifically on the ground outside of the trail. Between the tombstones and the zombie is where he spotted the two average sized footprints and a child's print leading off into the jungle. Off the beaten path, go figure.

He sent a text to Kamekona, hoping that the crappy signal service up here would let at least a text go through. Once he caught up with the teens, he was planning on putting a little fear into them for getting the mom so worked up and for making him go through a trail of horrors, something he wasn't too enthused with doing since he was a cop and was bound to most likely see worse stuff before the month was over.

The light from the lanterns dimmed until they were useless and he was left with only his flashlight. The thick canopy of leaves overhead choked out any ambient lighting, not that there was much of that either. Clouds had swamped the sky that afternoon and no doubt had the moon fully covered tonight.

"Sally?" he called out, counting on the fact he knew there were no dinosaurs or monsters to pop out and eat him. That didn't necessarily mean yelling in the dark jungle by himself was a good idea. "Sally? Tanya? Cooper?"

Number one rule right here, and he was breaking it. This is how everyone gets picked off in a horror movie, how many times had they established that? At least someone knew where he was.

"Sally?" he tried again. He paused and waited to see if there was an answer.

Nothing.

Had he not been born and raised on the island and learned how to navigate the jungle both in daylight and at night, he probably would've been lost by now. Following a trail wasn't as easy as the movies made it out to be and he was following barely a scuff here or a slight depression there. These guys had gone way off the beaten path.

"Might need the dogs," he said under his breath. Or at least Steve. Being both a Navy SEAL and an Arboreal crossbreed leant to his amazing tracking skills. One last time and then he'd call it too great of a challenge for one man and bring in the reinforcements. "Sally?"

The boughs of the trees creaked in a cool breeze, the leaves rustling against each other in a sound that was normally soothing, but Chin was having a hard time finding it anything but creepy right at the moment. He exhaled heavily. Reinforcements it was.

As he pivoted on his heel, there was a nearly imperceptible shuffle. He froze, one hand drifting to his gun. There was another shuffle to his right. Slowly, he swept his flashlight across the tree trunks and hanging vines, the multiple shadows dancing and flickering in the light.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose. He retraced the beam's path and barely saw the face peering out at him from amongst a tangle of prop roots. His heart flip flopped for a second.

"Sally?"

The tear streaked face nodded. Now no longer expecting ghosts and monsters, he cautiously walked over to the little girl. She was pale as a sheet and her naturally carrot orange hair was ruffled with a few leaves sticking out of it.

"Sally, my name is Chin. I'm a cop, see?" he unclipped his badge from his belt and held it out for her to see. What had happened to her? "Are you okay?"

She started to nod, and then wildly shook her head as tears sprang from her eyes. Chin kneeled down. She flew into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shirt. He picked her up, using his left arm to hold her and keeping his right free in case he needed to pull his gun.

"Sally, where're Tanya and Cooper? Do you know where they are?" he asked gently.

She was trembling against him. Whether it was from being in the cooler weather for too long or from fear, he didn't know. She eventually swallowed and pulled her face away from his chest. With a shaking hand and quivering lip, she pointed.

Chin twisted, shining his flashlight farther and farther up the steady incline. What would he have found if he had kept walking? He didn't see any bodies on the ground, thankfully, but a million horrifying scenarios were going through his head. His main concern, though, was getting Sally back to safety and getting her checked out by the EMTs.

Sally whispered unintelligibly.

"What was that, little sistah?" he asked.

"The trees," she squeaked. It felt like she had to force the words out with how strained they sounded.

The crooked and gnarled branches and roots that were fascinating to look at during the day could quickly become monsters to anyone in the dark, not to mention the insects that hid in them and created weird sounds. He trained the beam of light back up the incline, this time scaling the trees with it.

The flashlight nearly dropped out of his hand.

"What the hell?" he questioned and started to back away.

Hanging from a tree limb, skewed by branches and still dripping blood, was a mangled body.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Tomorrow on "Dragons", there's something lurking in the jungle. It watches.**

 **Hope you guys enjoy. There'll be rapid fire updates for the next...oh...two weeks? Ehehehehe.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! Stay tuned!**


	80. Fact 70 Part II

**Cryo Chamber's "Horror Ambient Mix" would also work for background sound.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #70: There is a reason there are many tales about staying out of the dark woods.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

 **Part II**

"I've seen leopards do this kind of stuff in Africa," Steve said.

The three Five-0 officers stood a little bit away from the tree as HPD and the ME finagled the body free of the branches. Floodlights had been set up, their bright halos chasing the darkness to the far edges of the jungle. Kamekona had promptly closed down and sent the people home. He had looked a bit green in the face when Chin told him what he had found.

Danny waved a hand up at the gruesome scene. "Except, you know, we're not in Africa and unless something escaped from the zoo, I'm having a bad case of déjà vu after last year."

The height of the branches where the body was at, which looked like it was possibly a young woman, Tanya most likely, was alarming. The trees here had several low slung branches, most of them much easier to reach than the nearly thirty feet off the ground where the body had been. If she had been hanging by a rope, that would've been easier to explain, but skewered at that height? Much more unsettling.

"How's the little girl you found? Sally, right?" Danny turned toward Chin.

Chin sighed. "She looked pretty much unharmed, but she stopped talking after she pointed out the tree. She won't say what happened."

"Kid's probably traumatized," Danny shook his head.

The ME finally had the body on the ground on a tarp, which Steve approached. Danny followed him warily, glancing around at the jungle floor and the canopy overhead while Chin directed CSU where to start photographing.

"This seems to be quite the fitting death for this time of year," Max said from where he was crouched. "No dishonor meant to the deceased, of course."

"Max, have any idea of what could have done this?" Steve also dropped to his haunches next to the body.

"It wouldn't have happened to have been, oh, I don't know, a leopard or some other big cat?" Danny stayed standing, gut churning a bit at the sight. He had been a detective for a long time and there was nearly nothing under the sun that he hadn't seen, but some bodies still managed to stir up his stomach.

Max frowned. "I am assuming you are asking because of where it was located, as leopards typically drag their kills up into the trees. You do know leopards and other large felines are non-native to the Hawaiian Islands, right?"

"Yeah, I know that. It would just lay to bed some fears I have about what's going on here if it was just a big kitty escaped from the zoo," Danny said.

"I am unfortunately unable to tell you at this time _what_ exactly did this, but I can tell you I believe it was a quick death. Her neck is snapped," Max tilted the head to show the uneven vertebrae underneath the skin.

"So everything else is post mortem?" Steve asked, eyeing the bloody gouges from the branches and the slashes across her chest and legs.

"That appears to be the case. I will be able to tell you more when I get the body back to autopsy."

Steve stood up and let Max go about preparing the body for transport. He pivoted around to take in the whole scene, from the undergrowth to the trees to the now heavily trafficked ground. Danny could see the thoughts starting to percolate and had a feeling they were thinking the same thing.

"Barely any tracks or evidence of a struggle," Steve finally muttered.

"Or blood," Danny added. The only blood present was directly under where the body had been.

Steve scratched at the back of his head. "There should be drag marks."

"I'll do you one better: where's Cooper, huh? Sally's mom said both of them were with her daughter, and yet we only have one body," Danny's hand flicked out at the black body bag being carried away.

Steve cast his eyes up the incline, to the dark trees beyond the reach of the floodlights. Leaves danced at the edge and fern fronds shuddered in the cool breeze blowing through the jungle. Standing here in the light, the darkness seemed thicker and less inviting than normal.

"He's out there somewhere," Steve said.

"Nuh uh. No way. I am not going out in the pitch black forest to hunt for a psychopath in the middle of the night," Danny waved both hands around vehemently. "We should wait until daybreak, okay? Remember the horror movie rule? This is how the motley crew of characters dies, by going into the woods because they heard a noise."

"Danny, if we wait until dawn the evidence could be degraded or gone completely, and whoever it is might be gone, too," Steve reasoned. He signaled Chin to come over. "Don't worry. We are not going to split up under any circumstances."

"Oh, that makes me feel so much better," Danny exhaled shakily and brushed a hand over his hair.

The three of them, armed with high powered flashlights, guns, and a bad feeling, walked under the murder tree after letting HPD know where they were going. It was a testament to how uneasy Steve felt that he was actually listening and sticking closer to the horror movie rule than usual. It didn't really allay any of Danny's fears, though, it actually made them more tangible.

"We should wait until the sun's up," Danny murmured once they were on the fringes of the floodlights' halos.

Chin said nothing, but his shoulders were taut. Steve stepped across the boundary of light into the gloom. Chin followed and Danny was the last, feeling as if he had just been swallowed whole by a crushing darkness.

* * *

Three miles from the part of the jungle humming with activity now, a small neighborhood sat comfortably. Moderately sized houses stood fairly close together, their shared lights spilling warmly onto the street and yards. Despite it being October, the grass was still a brilliantly lush carpet and the trees retained all their leaves unlike most of the mainland.

Auntie June had showed her pictures of the orange and yellow and red fall leaves in the Rockies, but she had never seen something like that in real life. She scuffed her foot on the patio rocks in her backyard. Other than slightly cooler weather and bigger waves, Oahu didn't experience much of a seasonal change. It had never bothered her before, but now knowing what she was missing made it more of a problem.

"Leilani, you want marshmallows in your cocoa or whipped cream?"

The twelve year old glanced over her shoulder through the open back door at her visiting auntie. "Um, can I have both?"

"You got it, sweet cheeks. Got a sweet tooth like your mom," Auntie June peeked around the doorway at her. "You comin' in soon or do you want your cocoa outside?"

Leilani stuffed her hands deeper into the oversized sweatshirt she had nabbed off her older cousin. "I'm comin' in, I'm just waiting for Milo to finish taking a dump."

"Lovely," her auntie chuckled and went back to the kitchen.

She rolled her eyes and glared at the terrier wandering around near the back fence of the rather long backyard. Dumb dog wasn't even doing any business anymore, he was meandering.

"Milo, c'mon, boy, let's go," she urged, bouncing from one foot to the other. She was only out here to make sure the dog didn't try to scale the fence again using her mom's flower lattice as a ladder. How he had managed it the first time, she still didn't know. "Milo, c'mon!"

She jumped as he started barking. There had been a stray cat running around raising a ruckus with a lot of dogs in the neighborhood. It would stand on the fences and let the dogs throw a fit in the middle of the night, much to the disgruntlement of everyone.

"Milo, you dumb dog, get over here! C'mon!" she hollered at him.

The fur on his shoulders bristled up and he was literally vibrating he was barking so hard. She stooped to grab a tennis ball and scanned the fence for the cat, dead set on lobbing the ball at it to get it to go away. She'd retrieve the ball tomorrow if it went over.

She couldn't see the cat, but Milo was barking at something.

"Leilani, get that dog inside so he shuts up," her mom called out of the house.

Grumbling, she trudged barefooted over the grass, careful not to step in any fresh piles of doo. She scooped up the dog and walked back to the house. He barked the whole way and didn't turn away from the back fence. Even once he was in the house he stared out the window and growled.

Usually Leilani didn't mind Milo sleeping with her, and once he had finally calmed down and curled up on the foot of the bed later that night, it was fine. She only started seriously reconsidering why she got a dog when she was awoken by him jumping off her bed and growling.

She sat up, barely seeing his silhouette against the window with the soft light from the tiny nightlight plugged into the wall.

"Milo," she hissed. "Get back on the bed and shut up."

He didn't listen. Just stood at her window, his hackles raised and a low growl coming from his throat.

Sighing, she shoved the covers off and got out of bed to shut the window. Her mom let her leave it open for air circulation and since she was on the second story of the house, it was never a worry. However, it apparently needed to be shut so Milo couldn't see whatever he was seeing.

"Dumb dog, it's almost midnight," she yawned and braced her hands on the window to slide it down.

She paused and squinted. She dug the heels of her palms into her bleary eyes to make sure. Almost falling across a heap of clothes, man, she needed to clean her room, she snatched her glasses off the nightstand.

Her vision sharpened instantly and she could actually see what Milo was seeing. The fairy lanterns in the backyard were swaying in the storm breeze, the dim light from them going around and around in circles on the ground. The flashes of light illuminated a dark shadow just on the other side of the fence, the side the jungle butted up against. It was almost indiscernible among the trees, set apart because it was the only thing not shuddering in the breeze.

Leilani sank to her knees next to her dog. Whatever it was wasn't moving. At all. It was just sitting there. Watching.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Tomorrow on "Dragons", did you know the forest goes quiet when there's a big predator in it?**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	81. Fact 70 Part III

**Again, most of Cryo Chamber's stuff is recommended for creating an appropriately creepy reading atmosphere.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #70: There is a reason there are many tales about staying out of the dark woods.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

 **Part III**

Danny never had a particular fondness for horror movies, but he could ride them out without too much of a problem. Things like _Alien_ or _Chucky_ never bothered him, per se, they just didn't appeal to him. They were just movies, plain and simple. It was his experiences as a cop that had instilled into him a dislike of the darkness.

He wiped a hand down his face and pulled out his phone to check the time. "It's almost two o'clock, Steve."

Steve had picked up a scent not too far away from the murder tree and they had followed it on a winding path through the jungle, farther and farther away from civilization. They'd been about to call it quits when they found a phone, Cooper's phone if the lock screen picture was anything to go by. Now, after nearly another hour of tracking, they had yet to find another clue.

Chin stopped and brought the group to a halt. "Danny's right, Steve. We're getting nowhere."

"Oh, no, we're getting somewhere, and that somewhere is lost," Danny waved a hand around at the encroaching jungle.

"We're not lost. There's a neighborhood about half a mile that way," Steve gestured to their right. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't like this."

"Really?" Danny raised a brow. "Now you don't like this? Care to enlighten me as to why this is just now crossing your mind?"

"Danny, there've been no tracks for the last two miles," Steve said. He swept his flashlight around the ground to prove his point. "I can barely pick up a scent."

Danny muttered a curse and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No drag marks, no tire tracks, no footprints. Either he vanished into thin air or it was a ghost."

As skilled as some dragons were at hunting and evading, even they left tracks and scents to be followed. Tracking through a jungle or forest was no easy task, as footprints and broken twigs didn't pop out like a painted trail like they did in movies, so they could have easily missed something. Steve may have been good, but he was only human. Or at least only mortal.

"Back where we found the phone, are you sure we didn't miss anything in the trees? Maybe we walked right under the body or something," Danny suggested, even though he doubted that reasoning. They had checked the canopy thoroughly half in dread and half in hope to no avail.

"No," Steve sighed.

Chin's flashlight flickered, reminding them of how long they had been out in the jungle. They were tired, hungry, thirsty, and on edge, a fact not helped by the steady hum of insects punctuated with the random cacophonous call of a certain species every once in a while.

"Okay. How about we head toward the neighborhood, hook up with Duke and see what he's found, and catch a ride back to our cars?" Chin said. "We're not much use if we run ourselves ragged, or if our flashlights go out."

"We can see in the dark," Steve said, but still started to lead the way in the direction he had indicated earlier. "Remember? We did that whole paintball thing in the jungle in the spring."

"How could I forget? The Earth itself tried to eat Chin, I almost fell through the ground on top of him, and then to top it off, I don't remember being able to see very well in the dark, anyway," Danny summarized. "Unless you have way better vision than I do as a dragon, which I highly doubt because you couldn't find Chin, either, you can't see in the dark nearly as well as you think you can, Super SEAL."

"Dragons aren't nocturnal, we don't have proper night vision," Steve said, and Danny wasn't sure if it was in defense or what. "We see better than humans, but not as well as something like an owl or a cat."

"Thank you for the biology lesson, Darwin," Danny grumbled, nearly stumbling over a root.

The breeze shifted and started blowing from behind them, coming in from a southwest angle. The insects chirruped and hummed with it. Danny glanced up at the canopy, not seeing much without the beam from his flashlight being directed up there. What little he could see told him the clouds hadn't moved from in front of the moon and if the increasing breeze was anything to go by, a storm could very well open up on them.

"Wait," Steve suddenly stopped dead with his hand up. He tilted his head to the side and in the ambient glow from their combined flashlights Danny saw the flicker of a long tongue. "I've got blood."

Danny dutifully followed him as he peeled off to their right and backtracked a little bit. The changing winds must have brought a scent through. One particularly strong gust carried a smell he could identify without the enhanced olfactory sensors.

Steve leapt on top of a log and froze. Danny peered over the fallen tree at where his partner's flashlight was directed. Bile rode up his esophagus and he turned away abruptly.

"Tell me that's not what I think it is," he said, leaning on the log and taking in steady breaths, ignoring the putrid scent of blood wafting by on the breeze.

Steve edged closer to the heap of red and white muscles and bones, and black tattered clothes. "It's a body."

Swallowing back the nausea, Danny looked up at Steve and refused to give the body more than a cursory glance. "I've seen rats eat a body, fished one out of the Hudson that had been chewed on by fish, but this?"

Steve turned his back on the body, shaking his head. "All the organs are gone. So is the head."

"I'll see if I can Duke on the phone to get CSU out here," Chin said, stepping away from the scene.

"Maybe we should just snap some pics and get out of here, because I don't know about you, but I don't really want to wait around for whoever or whatever this was to come back," Danny flicked a hand out at the corpse.

"Yeah," Steve agreed quietly.

To Danny's surprise, his partner pulled out his phone and photographed the mangled mess thoroughly before coming back over to the log. He cleared it and landed on the ground with a thump, then walked toward Chin.

"Signal's still too weak," Chin grunted and slid the phone back in his pocket. "We'll have to call him when we get to the neighborhood. The service should be better there."

Steve picked up the trail eastward again, leading them silently and quickly through the jungle. They weren't quite jogging, but it was an urgent walk. The breeze rustled the leaves and the branches in the canopy swayed overhead. It had grown quiet except for the oncoming storm.

Chin cursed as his flashlight finally gave up the ghost and went dark. "Should've grabbed an extra pair of batteries. Didn't expect to be out this late with it."

Danny was proud to say he had made sure the batteries in his were fresh since he had grown accustomed to the weirdness around this time of the year. As a cop in Jersey he had always made sure to have his stun gun, new batteries, and a steady hand just in case. It was a habit he had taken with him to Hawaii.

"Weirdest call on Halloween?" Danny asked. Silence had always driven him nuts.

Chin puffed out a breath as he navigated over a tangle of roots, using the edge of Danny's flashlight as his guide. "Beside last year with the Wyvern? What about you? I heard you got popped with a stun gun one Halloween."

"My own stun gun at that," he said.

The breeze died down and they were left in an eerie lull, only the crunching of the leaf litter on the ground under their feet creating any sound. Steve's pace slowed as the silence descended. Danny felt his heart thump a little harder in his chest.

"I don't hear any bugs," he murmured, his own quiet voice seemingly too loud in the hushed jungle.

Instinctually, they clustered closer together, backs against each other and eyes watching every direction. Danny may not have been a nature guy, but even he knew that when the forest fell silent, it wasn't a good thing. Forests, woods, jungles, they were always filled with insects and birds, and when they suddenly all disappeared, well, his clenched stomach and prickling arm hairs told him what that meant.

"Danny, you going to be okay with shifting?" Steve asked in a strained whisper.

"No, but you know I will if I have to," he said. "Why?"

"Because animals only go quiet when a bigger predator's about to attack."

"Great," he breathed out, any rants floating in his head dying on his tongue.

Steve started forward again, stepping slowly and cautiously. One by one they had pulled their guns and fell into a natural formation like they did when clearing a house. It wasn't as complete without Kono there, but it was still effective.

Danny about jumped a foot in the air when ringing shattered to tense silence.

Steve slipped the phone from his pocket, glared at it briefly, and then answered it, putting it on speaker. "Max, this had better be good."

" _I am sorry about the late hour, but I believe I have found something…disturbing."_

Chin perked a brow and Danny rolled his eyes. Of course.

"What is it?" Steve asked. He cradled the phone with his left hand and led the way with his right, the tactical light on his SIG illuminating the indiscernible path.

" _I found a substance in the wounds on the victim's chest and ran it through several tests."_

"Already? You've had the body for barely three hours," Danny said.

" _Yes, well, I felt this gruesome murder deserved answers quickly. The substance I found came back as saliva."_

Danny glanced at Chin and then at Steve, who frowned and said, "We found another body about two and a half miles from the first. It looked like it had been ravaged."

"Was it dragon saliva?" Chin asked.

Unless they actually did have a big cat wandering around on the island, Danny doubted, and had a feeling the other two did, too, that a human could have or would have been able to do something like this. That left a dragon as the likely culprit.

" _Technically."_

"What do you mean 'technically'?" he questioned. "It either is or it isn't."

" _I am sorry, Detective, but it – register – is intriguing – not sure what – there?"_

The call dropped and Steve snorted. "Dead zone."

"Fantastic choice of words there," Danny muttered. "What did he mean 'technically', huh?"

"You know how it is, Danny, dragon DNA is difficult to identify even when it's not mixed in with other blood and foreign materials," Chin said steadily. "The sample may have been too contaminated for the tests to find type markers."

"Come on, we're not that far from the neighborhood," Steve said.

Danny inhaled deeply and cast a look behind them. The darkness was its own entity, filling in wherever the light had been previously. Oozing, almost. He knew it was nuts and wasn't doing his anxiety or blood pressure any good thinking of the darkness that way, but he couldn't help it. When there was more darkness than light, it was threatening.

He could tell they must have been close to the neighborhood when he heard a dog barking in the distance. Between the broad leaves and tangled tree limbs he could catch snatches of street lights here and there. The breeze was blowing again, shaking the foliage around them. The sound of insect nightlife had yet to return, though.

The jungle started to thin out, the barking of the dog became more pronounced, and the halos of the street lights more solid. He huffed. They actually made it.

The barking cut off abruptly with a high pitched yelp.

Palms sweating, heart thudding harder, he looked at Steve and Chin. Their wide, wary eyes and tightly strung postures mirrored his own. Without needing to say a word, Steve darted off in the direction the barking had been coming from.

Now that they were out of the jungle, he didn't have to worry about tripping over roots or vines and could run at a decent speed over the strip of grass between the looming jungle and the backyards of the houses. Chin watched their six and Steve took the lead.

Steve stopped and backpedaled to a wooden fence. Danny followed the beam of his light from the grass up to the top of the boards. An icy chill went down his spine.

"Blood," he said.

Red dripped down the wood. It hadn't traveled very far, and if it belonged to the dog like Danny thought it did, it was extremely fresh. He directed his flashlight through the grass.

"Got some more," he said, carefully trailing the scarlet droplets over the blades of grass to the edge of the jungle butting up against the houses. "It goes back into the trees."

Steve flicked his light from the fence to the jungle. "Chin, get Duke on the phone."

Chin nodded and pulled his phone out.

Danny lowered his gun. "Steve."

"I know. Someone might kill two people, but why steal a dog out of a yard?" he said. "Maybe the big cat idea's not too crazy."

"Now you like it," Danny waved a hand out.

"What do you want me to say? It's better than the alternative," Steve holstered his gun and stalked over toward Chin.

Danny swept his flashlight over the dark jungle one last time, considering the alternative. He shivered. It wasn't a pleasant thing to consider, and beside that, an uncomfortable tingle got his hairs standing on end again. The darkness may not have been alive, but he had the horrible sensation of black eyes staring out of the trees at him. Watching.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Ehehehe, gotcha with a little bait-and-switch there, huh? Maybe? Don't worry. I won't leave you hanging for too much longer...**

 **Next week on "Dragons", if you go out in the woods today, you're in for a big surprise. Or, rather, if you go out in the woods you may find something you weren't expecting.**

 **Thank you all for loyally reading, reviewing, faving, and following through all my madness! Your reviews make it worth it. :)**


	82. Fact 71

**Well, feel free to continue listening to Cryo Chamber, but this one is more bantery than creepy.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #71: Never, ever mess with dragon genetics.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

The rest of the night had been exhausting. Police officers in teams of three had descended on the jungle with flashlights and radios that were unaffected by the poor cell signal around three that morning, searching and sweeping until seven that morning to no avail. They couldn't find jack between the neighborhood and the property Kamekona had set up shop on.

Danny himself was just barely gathering himself together to head into work at noon, shoving a granola bar in his mouth and grabbing his keys off the counter. Steve had been persuaded to let them sleep for a few hours and shower before continuing on with the case. The few hours he spent face down in his bed were welcome as was the hot shower that washed away the sweat.

On his drive to the Palace, he idly glanced at the ghoulish decorations in yards and around a few businesses. Some creepers in costumes were already out and about. He exhaled heavily. The older he got, the more he started to hate Halloween.

Chin was waiting in the parking lot when he pulled in. Wordlessly, he handed Danny a cup of coffee when he stepped out of the Camaro.

"Chin, you are a prince," Danny murmured gratefully and took a long swig of the still hot drink.

"I've got a feeling it's going to be a long day," Chin said as they headed toward the front doors together.

Danny barked out a laugh. "I think that's an understatement, babe. Yesterday was a long day, last night was nonexistent, but at least today started with coffee."

"You counting noon as the start of today?" Chin quirked a brow at him with a matching smirk.

"My day starts when I wake up, ergo, eleven was actually the start of today," he explained, one hand flapping around aimlessly. "And this coffee is perfect, reminds me of this place my partner and I used to get coffee and bagels from back in Jersey."

"It's from a hole in the wall called Koko's. I thought you'd like it, and apparently I was right," Chin said with a knowing grin.

They stepped out of the elevator on their floor and navigated through the glass walls to the bullpen where low and behold, Steve was already standing at the smart table with a scowl on his face, an array of crime scene photos arranged on all the monitors. Chin set the extra cup he was carrying by their boss' hand.

"Glare any harder at those screens and they might start to melt," Danny waved a hand at the hanging monitors.

Steve picked up the cup and drank slowly, the dark roast coffee seeming to ease some of the tension out of his shoulders. "Max called."

"And?"

"He positively identified the bodies as Tanya Cox and Cooper Forrester. He also found more saliva on Cooper's body," Steve said, setting the cup aside and nodding a thanks at Chin.

"Let me guess, it registered as dragon saliva but with no type markers, right?" Danny asked.

"Yeah."

"But that's not what's got you concerned," Chin said.

Steve snaked his arms across his chest and pushed his shoulders back. "Everything leaves tracks. I know it's harder to find them in leaf litter, but with two victims plus the dog, we should have found at least a partial foot print or drag marks or something."

Danny set his coffee down and pressed his palms together. "Okay, what about a Wyvern? Maybe one's flying between the trees and that's why we can't find anything."

"But why hang around in that section of the jungle after killing two people?" Steve questioned.

"It's not like the dog would be able to identify the killer, so why kill the pooch, huh?" he agreed.

Chin hummed lowly. "Not to mention, it's one thing to kill two people, but another to eat one. Most dragons would still view that as cannibalism."

"Right. So we've either got Hannibal Lecter on the loose, or…." Danny trailed off. With the dragon DNA being found on the bodies, it was hard to say it could be something else.

Steve's phone rang. He slid his thumb across the screen and linked it up with the smart table. "What d'you got, Max?"

Max's face appeared on the center hanging monitor. " _Commander. Detective. Lieutenant. I believe that I have found something else that may be of interest to you."_

"It wouldn't happen to be a very accurate description of who we're looking for, would it?" Danny quipped.

" _I am sorry, Detective. Unfortunately, science is not yet advanced enough to construct an accurate depiction based off a DNA sample. I also now realize you were being facetious."_

"What did you find?" Chin asked.

" _Among other materials, I found sawdust in the wounds on both bodies."_

"Sawdust?" Steve echoed.

" _Specifically, sawdust from non-native trees."_

"Thanks, Max. Anything else?"

" _Nothing else so far. I will call you if I find anything of interest."_

The call ended and the three of them glanced at each other with furrowed brows. Chin reached over and took control of the smart table, typing rapidly and bringing up a map of the region of jungle they had been in early that morning.

"This is where we found the bodies. And here are the closest lumber mills," he said, entering a command on the screen.

The map zoomed out with several red pins popping up. Most of them were a decent ways away from the neighborhood, the closest being a dozen miles northwest. Not out of the realm of impossible, just difficult.

"What about abandoned mills?" Steve suggested.

"There's this old place here," Chin pointed at a spot along a narrow dirt road northeast of the neighborhood. "It was a family owned operation that went out of business about five or six years ago."

"And it's only seven miles away from the crime scene sites," Steve said, nodding in approval. "We should go up there–"

"Hold up," Danny threw up both of his hands. "Are you actively trying to put us into the middle of a horror movie? First, we go wandering around in the woods in the dark, and now you want to go to an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere that may or may not be possibly housing a cannibalistic dragon?"

"Would you like me to assemble a SWAT team?" Steve asked.

"Yes, would you? I would like to get home to my kids," he pleaded, his hands dancing everywhere in exasperation.

"You can deal with Captain Grover, then," Steve said and stalked off over to the firearm locker. "I'll let Duke know where we're going and to be on standby."

Danny sighed and looked at Chin. He shook his head. So much for their boss following the horror movie rule. It was nice while it lasted.

* * *

"Yep. This is definitely straight out of a horror movie," Danny said as they pulled up to the building that was in the process of being reclaimed by the jungle.

They had piled into the Silverado since they were unsure how well maintained the dirt road that ran by the old mill was going to be. There had been a few ruts where rainwater streams must have washed through, but the truck had made it without a problem, though that fact was a little bit to Danny's frustration. He really didn't want to be up here.

"Danny, you need to chill out. It's daylight," Steve said as if that made everything better.

Danny eyed the sky as he climbed out of the passenger seat. "Sort of. You see those clouds? What if it rains on us, huh? What if we get stranded up here because the road floods?"

"It's not going to flood, and the forecast doesn't call for rain until this evening," Steve tossed him a tac vest out of the lockbox in the bed of his truck. "Do you want to wait outside?"

"Are you kidding me? The guy who waits outside always dies first," he snapped and shrugged on the vest, pulling the straps securely across his chest. It could stop bullets and it deflected dragon claws pretty well, too. If he was going to stupidly follow his partner into a situation, he at least wanted to be semi-prepared.

"Ready?" Steve asked, pulling his sidearm out of its holster.

Danny and Chin gave him curt nods and followed him briskly toward the medium sized building. Chin watched their six as Steve pushed through the narrow gap in the large loading door. Danny squeezed through after him, flicking on his flashlight once he was through. His eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom. Dust tickled his nose.

Resisting the urge to sneeze, he scrunched up his face. "Looks empty."

Steve nodded grimly.

The building was hollow, all the equipment and stacks of lumber having been moved out many years ago. The only remnants left were mounds of sawdust here and there with a few bits and ends, other than that it was completely open with no signs of life anywhere.

Steve shined his light down at the concrete floor. "Look for prints."

They broke apart, but only partially. Though it was an open building, Danny could just imagine something reaching down out of the rafters and pulling one of them up into oblivion. He swung his light around the ceiling just to put his mind at ease. A couple of pigeons spooked and flew out one of the busted windows.

"I've got a footprint," Chin called.

Danny trotted over to him in the far corner of the building as did Steve, who immediately crouched down to examine it. He cocked his head to the side. "Well, that's not the kind of footprint I was expecting to find."

It wasn't even a footprint. It was a boot print.

"Man's shoe, size ten, looks like a combat boot," Steve said quietly. "Wonder how fresh it is."

"You can tell the gender, size, and type, but can't tell how old it is?" Danny asked.

Steve shot a glare up at him and rose to his full height. "I'm a Navy SEAL, not a psychic. There were some scuff marks over there, like something had walked through the sawdust. Couldn't see any discernible prints. You?"

"Nada. Nothing in the rafters, either," Danny gestured upwards.

Steve grunted. "Let's do a sweep of the surrounding area."

"Sure, let's make ourselves really exposed," Danny grumbled, but obediently followed Steve and Chin outside.

The ashen clouds had thickened in the short time they had been in the old mill, and Danny couldn't resist shooting his partner a pointed look. Forecast his foot, it looked like it was going to rain that very hour. A cool, moist storm breeze was even beginning to blow.

"Alright, alright!" Steve raised his hands in surrender. "We'll do a quick sweep and head down. Happy?"

"Happy would be a stretch," Danny said.

Guns drawn, the three of them circled around the building, carefully stepping through tall grass, overgrown ferns, and roots breeching up out of the ground. Chin hung back while Danny stayed up front closer to his partner. He couldn't wait until Kono returned and they could get back to their normal pattern. In his opinion, they needed another member to fully round out the team. And they had a potential one waiting in the wings. Now he only had to broach the subject.

"How's Cath holding up after what happened with Billy?" he asked offhandedly.

"She's…she's struggling. I think she needs something to do, to keep her mind busy," Steve answered.

"You goin' to offer her job on Five-0?" he half-asked, half-suggested as the breeze shifted directions and attempted to dishevel his hair from slicked back to windblown forward.

Steve turned to glance at him. "Think she would want to be on the team?"

"I think it would give her something to do, and until Kono comes back, I think we'd be better off with a fourth member," he said.

"Chin?" Steve slowed his pace to look at the third member.

"I'm fine with it, brah," Chin said and gave him a small grin. It was lined with the worry he'd been carrying for his cousin for the last few months.

Steve smirked briefly. He started forward again with Danny on his heels, and without warning, both of them catapulted up into the air, leaving behind a few leaves that fluttered down on a gob smacked Chin.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Ehehehe...**

 **Thursday on "Dragons", a clearer picture of what they're dealing with is painted for them.**

 **Sorry for the random posting schedule. Part II is fighting me, but I think I know what I need to do to whip it into shape. I just need two more days to do it in. Bear with me, folks.**

 **Thank you all for faithfully reading, reviewing, faving, following, and putting up with my madness. XD**


	83. Fact 71 Part II

**This one is meatier and hopefully enjoyable. ;)**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #71: Never, ever mess with dragon genetics.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

 **Part II**

Once it felt like his stomach had caught up with the rest of him, Danny took a breath in, his eyes darting around frantically. Green leaves surrounded them, a few poking through the thin metallic wires they were wrapped in. What the heck had just happened? He grunted as Steve's elbow dug into his ribs and it came to his attention that his partner was pretty much on top of him.

"What did you do?" Danny snapped and squirmed partially out from under Steve, gripping the netting surrounding them to help haul himself up.

"Why is this my fault? You think I purposely stepped into a snare?" Steve made a face at him and wriggled the rest of his body off of his partner.

There was a whistle below them. "Hey, you guys okay?"

Danny looked down at the jungle floor a good twenty or so feet below. Chin had his head craned back looking at them, a cross between amusement and confusion on his face.

"Yeah, we're good," Steve called down. "See if you can figure out how this thing is rigged up."

As Chin walked off from directly below them toward the large trees they must have been suspended from, Steve shifted the scales and claws out on his hands and grabbed the netting.

"Hey, hey, don't go shredding through this thing, huh? I don't want to drop twenty feet and break something," Danny warned, flicking a hand at the ground.

Steve ignored him and continued with what he was doing. He grappled with the section of netting where the lines crossed, forming diamond shapes like a dragnet used for fishing. Danny held onto the wire tighter just in case the netting gave out. Steve could drop his own butt on the ground, but he planned on fighting gravity.

"Can you bite through this?" Steve asked. A deep line had formed between his brows as he picked at the wire with his claws.

"I just told you I don't want to fall thirty feet to the ground."

"Now it's thirty feet?"

"Twenty, thirty, it doesn't matter. It'd still hurt," Danny said and exhaled heavily. "Why can't you just cut through it, huh? You've got those nasty hooked claws."

Steve pointedly snagged the wire with a claw and sawed on it. Nothing happened. It didn't even make a mark. "You can crush rocks with your teeth."

"Yeah, when I'm mostly fully shifted, and unlike you, I don't like shifting at the drop of a hat," he said. "You bite through them."

"Danny–"

"Uh, guys."

They both looked down at Chin's voice. He stepped back into view with his hands up by his head and a gun trained between his shoulder blades. The man behind him was camouflaged with browns and greens, still almost able to blend in despite moving. A second man peeled out of the undergrowth and aimed his gun up at them.

"Who are you?" Steve barked.

"You first. Who are you?"

That was the voice of the third person to emerge from the jungle below them, a woman also in camouflage. She had a gun, but didn't raise it up at them, instead letting it hang harmlessly at her side.

"Commander Steve McGarrett, Five-0," Steve said.

"Christ," the woman rolled her eyes and shook her head. She walked over to Chin, snatching the badge off his belt and staring at it intently. "Cutter, get them down. Carefully."

The second man lowered his rifled and handed it off to the woman. He disappeared out of view.

"Okay, you know who we are. Who are you?" Steve repeated.

"Cassandra. These are Ensigns Cutter and Strickland," she said.

The net jerked and dropped a few feet quickly before slowing to a more manageable pace. It landed on the ground with a thump. Cassandra walked over and fiddled with the opening of the net, having to fish a key out of her pocket to release the mechanism holding it closed.

"What are you doing up here, Commander?" she asked, still working on loosening the net. When it finally did loosen, with some finagling, they were able to get free of the wiring.

"Chasing down a lead on a case. What are you doing up here setting traps?" Steve questioned.

Danny eyed Cutter and Strickland in their dark camouflage. They had vests on, as well, but theirs looked heavier duty than the tac vests they used. Cutter was a tall, lean man with scruffy hair that might have been blond under the mud smeared across his face. Strickland, on the other hand, was broad shouldered with evenly tanned skinned and ruffled dark hair, he might have even been a native from the islands. He, too, had mud smeared on his face. What was it with Navy guys and mud?

"That's classified," Cassandra said, setting her hands on her hips. "You and your team need to go home."

"We're in the middle of a double homicide case. Very brutal," Chin interjected.

"So, unless whatever you're doing up here trumps that, we're not going anywhere," Danny said. He may not have wanted to be up here in the first place, but now he had a hunch beginning to grow in his gut.

Cassandra glared at them, her dark eyes widening slightly before narrowing. "We've been up here since late last night doing training exercises. Whoever you're looking for is not here."

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. Danny could see the wheels turning in his head, caught the small furrowing of his brows and the tightening of the muscle in his jaw. He wasn't buying it, either.

"You know, I used to be friends with Captain Tanner here on the island. He's still in charge of field exercises like this," Steve said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

"These trainings aren't privy to civilians," Cassandra objected.

"It's okay. Tanner and I go way back. I'm sure once I explain the situation, we can work something out," Steve selected a number on his phone and held it up to his ear.

Strickland glanced at Cassandra and grabbed Steve's wrist, though not with the aggression Danny had expected. "Respectfully, Sir, it's better you don't call the Captain."

"Okay," Steve dropped the phone back in his pocket, but not before Danny glimpsed the screen and realized that Tanner's name wasn't at the top of the screen, but was instead Kamekona's. He had learned to bluff well. "Then tell me what you're doing up here."

"With dragon traps," Danny added with a wave at the snare. The three camouflage wearing people stared at him. "What? I'm not just a pretty face. That stuff is made out of titanium alloy, and you don't use anything titanium alloy unless you're planning on dealing with dragons."

Cassandra sighed and finger combed straight black errant strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail. "Why are you up here?"

Danny shot a look at Steve. Silently, they debated whether or not to tell them the whole truth. Steve frowned. Danny lifted a brow. It's not like their case was classified.

"Between twenty-one hundred hours last night and o' two hundred this morning, two bodies were found in the jungle seven miles southwest of this location. One was hanging in the trees thirty feet off the ground, the other was two miles away. The organs on the second had been ravaged and the head removed," Steve said evenly, watching the other team closely.

Cutter scrubbed a hand over his muddy hair, spiking it at odd angles and cursing under his breath.

"Then, after we made it out of the jungle into the neighborhood right there, something snatched a dog out of someone's backyard," Danny continued.

One of Cassandra's hands fluttered up to rest on her forehead. "I'm going to ask one question," she said, looking up at Steve. "Were there any tracks on the ground around the bodies?"

"No."

"Damn it," she hissed and cupped her face in her hands.

"You know what it is, don't you," Chin stated more than asked.

Cassandra nodded.

"Tell us. We can help," Steve said.

"Sir, I understand you're just trying to do your job like we're doing ours, but this isn't your mission," Strickland said. He wasn't condescending, sounding genuinely concerned instead.

"It became my mission when whatever's going on happened on my island," Steve pointed at the ground between them.

Cassandra silently consulted with her teammates in that wordless way friends managed to work out after several years. She sighed and looked back at them. "Word cannot get out about this, Commander. It can absolutely not get out."

"It's too late, babe. Whatever it is has already gotten out," Danny said.

"You either let us in on it, or we're going to have a bigger problem," Steve said. "We can help. The Governor of Hawaii has granted us immunity and means to help with situations like this."

"And you don't have to worry about us being unsuited to dealing with dragons," Chin said. "We've seen it all."

"Five-0 handled the Wyvern last year and dismantled the breeding operation this spring," Cassandra said quietly, nodding. "I know."

"So, what's the problem?" Danny asked.

"The problem is that while this mission technically doesn't exist, it's supposed to be done quietly without outside support," Cutter grumbled, eyeing his two teammates with frustration.

"Admit it, brah, this has gotten out of hand. Two people are dead," Strickland looked over Cassandra's head at Cutter.

"Enough guys," Cassandra snapped without any bite. Wearily, she cast her gaze to Steve, then Danny, and then Chin. "I appreciate the offer, Commander. But I think you need to know what we're dealing with before you jump in with both feet."

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against a thick tree trunk. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Which, by extension, means we're not going anywhere, so you might as well tell us before it decides to downpour on us," Danny waved a hand loosely at the rain heavy cloud ceiling.

"I'm not going to lie to you, then," Cassandra settled her hands on her hips. "This is personal for me."

* * *

 _Unnamed Black Site, 1987…._

Dr. Blackwell clenched the papers in his hands tightly, scrunching and wrinkling them. "Sir, I disagree. These experiments, while infinitely valuable to learning more about our equals, are becoming nothing more than a farce."

"A few failures and you're already calling it quits?" Dr. Crombie questioned.

Their underlings shifted uncomfortably at the table, shooting glances at each other, all of them half-expecting the two standing scientists to physically start brawling.

"If you had been present here for the last five years, you would well know it's been more than a few failures!" Blackwell slammed his palms down on the table. "I've more than adequately stated that in my reports."

"And from what I gather from your reports, you've come to a better understanding of what's going wrong and how to overcome that obstacle," Crombie said sharply. He sorted through the folder on the table before him and selected a sheaf of papers. "This one. Experiment Leviathan, you stated, and I quote–"

"I know what it says. Leviathan was one of the first to successfully take on the desired genetic qualities, reaching superior size in two years," Blackwell grunted. He ran a hand over the neatly trimmed graying goatee on his face, searching the grains on the wooden table for answers.

"Present this experiment to them," Crombie said, waving the file at him.

Blackwell looked up from the table and bored his eyes into the younger man's skull. "If you had bothered to recount the most recent report regarding Leviathan, you would know that he died at the age of twenty-five months. The strain of growing that fast couple with the desired yet incompatible genetics led to an early death, not to mention his intelligence never exceeded beyond the most basic of instincts."

"We've been patient with you back in DC, Blackwell, but the government is looking toward investing in more productive ventures now," Crombie glowered at him and pulled another packet of papers out of his folder. Blackwell's eyes widened fractionally at the project name across the top of it. "Ah, so you do recognize this file."

"Of course I recognize it. I'm just wondering how in the hell you got a hold of it," Blackwell scowled.

"Experiment Wraith. Care to tell me why this one never crossed my desk?" Crombie questioned.

"Because it was yet another failure," Blackwell said.

One of his underlings side-eyed him curiously. Blackwell subtly moved his fingers in a gesture to keep quiet. The underling leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against his notebook and looking by all appearances bored with the meeting. Blackwell didn't miss how his leg started jumping under the table.

"How?" Crombie demanded. "According to this, Wraith made it to the age of five with little to no health concerns and successfully displays exactly what we've been looking for. And then, as of two years ago, there's nothing. Why?"

"He may not have had Leviathan's issues, but we discovered a risk with him, one that until now, hadn't been anticipated," Blackwell said, inhaling and exhaling slowly. What he wouldn't give to deck Crombie right in the face for snooping through his private files.

"Care to elaborate?" Crombie straightened from hunching over the table and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"It came to our attention with Leviathan, but didn't fully sink in until Wraith," Blackwell said. "These mutant hybrids, these genetically skewed and altered dragons, cannot shift into human form."

Crombie's brows shot up to his hairline. "And you didn't bother adding that to your reports?"

Blackwell held up a hand haltingly. "Listen to me. Not only can they not shift, but what we're doing to them combined with that, is rendering them feral. Only basic instincts. Whatever super soldiers the government was hoping to create is not going to happen. You might as well release a tiger or an elephant onto enemy territory and hope for the best."

"But a tiger or an elephant is not as heavily armored or endowed with the ability of flight or fire breathing," Crombie argued. "For Pete's sake, Blackwell, have you actually accomplished anything while you've been out here on this mound of dirt in the Pacific?"

Blackwell nodded gravely. "Oh, we've accomplished something, Crombie. We've made monsters."

Crombie sighed deeply and began gathering his papers together back into his folder. "This site is going into review. The government feels it's becoming too much of a money pit. Personnel will most likely be relocated at a future date."

Blackwell gaped at him. "You can't be serious. When? How long have you known they were going to shut us down?"

"Why do you think I'm out here doing a review? I needed something tangible to take back to them, but all you've done is confirm their suspicions. This is a waste of time, manpower, and money. I'd give it a few months before they move the majority of personnel to other sites and leave a skeleton crew behind. After that, I honestly can't tell you," Crombie said. He leveled Blackwell with a stern gaze. "You're done."

With that, Crombie and his underlings filed out of the conference room. The onsite underlings shuffled out after them, returning to their various positions of research. Only Blackwell and the one he'd eyed earlier remained.

"Sir, it's probably not my place to ask, but why did you lie?" the underling, Lanyard his name was, asked, still tapping his pen against his notebook restlessly.

"Because, Crombie is a bastard, but he's right. This needs to end," Blackwell flicked his fingers at Lanyard as he exited the room, his young associate scrambling to keep up with his long stride.

Lanyard nodded in sudden understanding. "You don't want to keep doing these experiments."

They brushed by a security guard stationed outside a door, flashing their security badges briefly before being let in. Once the door clicked closed behind them, Blackwell turned and faced the younger man.

"Why did you sign up for this? Why did you want to be on my team?" he asked.

Lanyard glanced at his feet and then back up at his face. "I wanted to work with genetics, and dragons are about as unexplored as the bottom of the ocean."

"I sense a 'but'," Blackwell said softly.

"But I don't like this anymore. Forcefully creating living beings, only for them to live a short and tortured life before dying because of something we did to them?" Lanyard said.

Blackwell laid his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "I knew I liked you, son."

Lanyard breathed out a sigh of relief as they started to trek down the short hallway to the second door. As Blackwell punched in the keycode, he asked, "What about you, Sir? Why are you here? If you don't mind me asking."

"I wanted to study why dragons are healthier and sturdier than their human counterparts. See if we could use their DNA to help fight common diseases and ailments," Blackwell said. The door buzzed and he pushed it open. He huffed. "But instead I got roped into doing this, playing God with, in the most basic of terms, our fellow man."

The door shut behind them, leaving them in a dim room. A table with a computer and other lab equipment sat off to the right side, papers scattered all over its surface like a fresh skiff of snow. A control panel sat to the side of the large observation window, the small lights on it glowing softly like Christmas lights.

Blackwell approached the reinforced window, shaking his head at the crack spiderwebbing across the bottom of it. He reached up and tapped his fingers on it.

A head dropped down from above, one black eye shifting in its socket as it looked for him. It was a cloudy day with a veil of fog. The diffuse light was easier on its eyes, which is why Blackwell suspected it was out and about.

"He's only seven, you know," Blackwell murmured to Lanyard. "A child without parents."

Lanyard knew. He had been right beside Blackwell for the last three years and had a wealth of knowledge concerning this particular experiment. Lanyard pulled a small drawer out of the wall. He dug a half-eaten bag of Skittles out of his pants pocket and dumped a small pile in the drawer, and then pushed it back into the wall, where it popped out on the other side in the enclosure.

The pale, almost skeletal head tilted and like a chameleon the size of a Shetland pony easing down a tree, it crept further down the wall. Watching it eat had always fascinated both Blackwell and Lanyard. Carefully and very precisely, it uncurled the three useful fingers on its forelimb and picked the colorful candies up one by one, awkwardly crunching them between crowded and spiny teeth set in black gums. It had finally figured out how to use its forked tongue to maneuver hard food to the back of its mouth were flat molars sat.

Lanyard chuckled as it eyed them carefully before disappearing out of view at the top of the window. "He always leaves the yellow ones."

Blackwell sighed.

"What are you going to do when the site shuts down?" Lanyard asked.

Blackwell shook his head. "I don't know. I really don't."

* * *

 _Present day, Oahu…._

"Long story short, a year later Blackwell took a leave of absence because of his declining health and it was during that time the site was cleared and closed. He never got back to the island," Cassandra finished.

"And they didn't take Frankenstein's monster with them? They just packed up and left it there?" Danny questioned.

"He. It's a he. And they didn't know he was still alive. That's what Blackwell and Lanyard wanted them to think," Cassandra said, looking at him darkly. "Lanyard programmed the enclosure he was being kept in to open a few days after the site was cleared, letting him have free range of the island so he could get to water and catch food. It was all he could think to do without Blackell's assistance."

"Wait. How do you know all this?" Steve asked, furrowing his brows at the woman.

She shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "Lieutenant Cassandra Blackwell. My father was George Blackwell, and in his old age, he started to slip and one night while I was taking care of him, he told me this wild story of a creature on an island in the middle of the Pacific and his whole part in it."

Chin glanced around the jungle, all its leaves shaking with the storm breeze. It had grown darker with the thickening of the clouds. "Why are you here on Oahu?"

"The black site was recently cleared a few weeks ago. My team was on standby to help unload the ship, and once I found out where it had come from, I approached my superior with what I knew," she rubbed a hand over her mouth and searched the surrounding foliage in avoidance. "Nothing alive was found on that island."

"But nothing dead was found on that island, either," Cutter added. "And nothing was on the ship."

"So why start searching here?" Steve asked.

"Supposedly, some of the men on the deck of the ship got spooked one night and thought someone had fallen overboard. After doing a headcount and confirming everyone was still on the ship, they shrugged it off," Cassandra shot a look up at the sky at the rumble of thunder.

"You figured out exactly when that incident occurred, and it lined up with when the ship was either docked at or was passing by the island," Steve surmised.

She nodded. "We've got loose orders to contain the situation."

"Contain? You've done a fine job of doing that," Danny's hands shot out to wave at the jungle and then to motion to his team.

Steve gave him a look.

"This team doesn't officially exist, okay?" Cassandra barked at him. "Would I rather have a team of ten highly trained men and women at my back with more equipment than three dragon snares and a couple dozen Dragon Slayer rounds? Yes, but shady crap like this has to stay small so it doesn't blow back on anybody sitting in an office over there in DC."

"So they hung you out to dry," Danny said.

The silence confirmed it.

Steve smirked grimly at them. "Don't worry. You've got three more backing you now."

"We could use more," Danny said suggestively.

Steve's eyes narrowed. "No. Duke–"

"Steve," Chin intercepted, and his tone brooked no room for an argument. "HPD is not set up to handle dragons. You don't want to put those guys in danger because of a pissing contest with Grover."

Steve's exhale was almost a growl, and Danny squinted at him, wondering if that was indeed steam he saw roll from one nostril. Cassandra, Cutter, and Strickland looked at them in confusion.

"Fine," Steve relented and pulled out his cell phone, stalking off to make the call in private.

Cassandra arched a brow at Danny.

"You want backup? We're getting SWAT up here with their gear," Danny explained, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at his partner standing by the building, looking ready to murder someone.

Strickland grunted. "Only easy day was yesterday."

Once in a blue moon, Danny found himself agreeing with a Navy SEAL, and this must have been a blue moon. "Don't I know it. Are you familiar with Murphy's Law?"

"Pretty much my life motto," Cassandra said, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

"Good. Because if you weren't, you're probably about to get very acquainted with it," Danny said and flashed them a knowing grin.

Alarm flitted over Cassandra and her team. If the only easy day was yesterday, and if anything that could go wrong was going to go wrong, the rest of today was going to be especially enjoyable.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **How about...Saturday? Yeah. Saturday on "Dragons", Five-0 teams up with SWAT and Cassandra's team. Grover gets way more than he bargained for when the dark can no longer hide a monster.**

 **Sorry for the weird posting schedule. Real life got busy and cluttered, and my writing has suffered for it. My bad, guys. I still hope you enjoy this little arc!**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	84. Fact 71 Part III

**The last part. Enjoy!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #71: Never, ever mess with dragon genetics.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

 **Part III**

Captain Grover was caught between being smug and being irritated as he stepped out of the SWAT truck, and he didn't bother to hide either emotion. "Well, well, well. Looks like someone had to eat a slice of humble pie."

Steve narrowed his eyes at him. "We have bigger problems than your issues with me and my team."

"Hey, my issues with you and the way your team run roughshod over the island directly correlate to this right here," Grover gestured to the five other SWAT officers piling out of the truck behind him. "These are my men, and I plan on every single one of them getting home to their families tonight. I don't need a half-thought out plan of yours ending up with collateral damage."

Chin put a hand up to preempt Steve's reply. "Lieutenant Blackwell is going to take the lead on this one, Captain. Her team has a better idea of what we're dealing with."

"And what, pray tell, is that?" Grover stalked over to the other two team leaders, looking down at them both. "Because McGarrett here couldn't have been any vaguer on the phone if he had tried."

"I have no clue what kind of testosterone fueled war you two have going on, but you better listen up," Cassandra snapped. Despite her short stature, she commanded a certain respect and attention from the two tall men. "The Commander already has an idea of what's out there. It's a dragon."

Grover lifted his brows. "Oh, is that all? You learn how to dole out details from him?"

A flinty gaze passed over her eyes. "Captain, I appreciate you coming up here, but do not take this lightly. No one has laid eyes on him for decades. All we know thus far is that he's big enough to kill two human adults and big enough to hoist one thirty feet into the trees."

"You have any information on what type he is?" Grover sobered, ignoring the glare from Steve and quickly dropping into work mode.

"He's a genetic monstrosity," Danny said with a shrug. "It's kind of a be prepared for everything type of situation."

The rest of Grover's SWAT team nodded and checked their weapons while Cassandra laid out a map of the jungle on the hood of the Silverado. She pointed out where the other two snares were set and indicated where they had already searched.

"Wait a minute," Grover interrupted. "If this guy was creeping around in the dark seven miles southwest of here early this morning, why are we up here?"

"We found evidence of him loitering around the mill. He sleeps during the day, and we're betting he's close by," Cassandra said. She circled an area on the map with her finger. "Even if he heard us, he won't be moving very fast. After eating last night and with it still being light out, it's most likely he'll be slow. I want a team to come up behind this point here, one from the west and another from the east."

"You're going to try to push him toward the other snares," Steve said.

"That's the plan. We'll keep a team here at the mill and box him in," she said with a sigh. She looked at the people gathered around the truck. "The Commander triggered the only spring trap we had. The other two are wire snares, so steer clear of them. They'll take a human head or limb right off, understood?"

A few 'yes, ma'ams' fluttered around the group. Casting a final look at Steve and his team, and then at Grover and his team, she divided them up and sent them off to catch a monster.

* * *

The same uncomfortable prickling feeling Danny had had last night, or early this morning rather, was back. He followed Steve and Chin through the jungle, one SWAT officer tagging behind them, making it so each of the teams had four. Five-0 plus one SWAT guy, Grover plus three SWAT guys, and Cassandra's team plus one SWAT guy.

Despite the extra person, he was having déjà vu. At least it was light out this time. Sort of. The oncoming storm had certainly dimmed the afternoon sun and it was a diffused gray light permeating between the trees. That same prickle of being watched, though, was a constant.

Steve stopped and held up a fist. They halted behind him, taking up positions to watch the jungle from every angle while they waited for Grover's team. It didn't take long for the darkly dressed team to filter through the trees quietly.

Using hand signals, they worked out how they were going to proceed. They fanned out and started making their way north back toward the mill. Danny watched the ground for trip wires, really not wanting to loose his foot because he'd triggered a snare. They weren't close to where Cassandra had said the snares were, but he'd rather be safe and intact than sorry and limping.

 _Snap!_

The eight of them froze. It wasn't a twig snapping. It sounded like a branch breaking, a thick one at that. Steve darted forward through the undergrowth while Grover's team hung back.

Grover shook his head and Danny saw the sour face he made. He could guess what he was thinking. _You don't run_ toward _the sound._ Danny had to privately agree, citing the horror movie rule to himself. But he was pretty sure he'd follow Steve to Hell and back, so following him toward a scary sound in the jungle while they were searching for a monster didn't stretch the imagination too much.

The rolling jungle floor crested a hill and then dipped into a gully where he distinctly remembered one snare being set. Thankfully, it seemed the rest of his team remembered that, as well, and very carefully worked their way down into the gully.

"Commander," SWAT Officer Davidson nodded upward.

Swallowing, Danny craned his head back. He puffed out a small relieved breath. He'd been expecting another body.

"Something triggered the snare," Steve said quietly.

"Purposefully," Chin tacked on.

The sound they'd heard had been a branch snapping. A good sized tree limb was suspended up in the air, the shiny titanium alloy wire fastened around it so tightly it had cracked and splintered. A cold chill made his palms sweat. Chin was right. A branch didn't get caught in there on accident.

"Steve," Danny murmured, inching his way closer to his partner with his gun at the ready. "Cassandra never mentioned, you know, exactly how smart this thing is, and by the looks of it, it's not at a basic instinct level."

"I know," Steve grunted.

The rapid report of gunfire broke out behind them.

They retraced their steps back through the jungle quickly. Danny's heart thudded heavily in his ribcage. The shots were sporadic, changing directions and more than once a bullet sent bark flying from a tree too close for comfort. Steve brought them to a stand still and crouched down.

"I don't know about you, but with them doing a spray and pray with their automatics, I'm not sure how close we can get," Danny said.

A stray bullet struck the tree they were sheltering behind, chips of bark raining down on them just to emphasize his point.

"Chin! You got eyes on them?" Steve shouted across to where Chin and Davidson were taking cover.

"Too much undergrowth to see from here," Chin shouted back.

Steve huffed. "Okay, here's the plan–"

The gunfire abruptly cut off. A low, throaty moan took its place as did a flurry of cursing and a yell. Then silence fell like a suffocating blanket.

Danny sprung to his feet, weaving through the undergrowth and over roots with the rest of his team. Thunder rumbled overhead and he swore he felt a few specks of rain land on his face. Looking up and trying to glimpse the sky through the canopy of leaves, he barely saw the body lying on the ground and nearly tripped over him.

"Got an officer down," he called, dropping to his knees to check for a pulse. One fluttered under his fingertips.

The SWAT officer appeared unconscious. If Danny had to recreate the scenario, he'd guess something had grabbed a hold of his leg with an impressive set of teeth and flung him into the tree he was slumped against.

"Lee has a leg fracture but is okay, and Glenfield has a bleeding head wound," Davidson sounded off from where he was instructing his teammate to keep from moving.

"Where's Grover?" Steve questioned after doing a sweep of the area.

Glenfield gestured and Davidson leaned over his teammate. His head popped back up. "He says the dragon dragged him off."

Steve snatched the radio off his belt. "One of the snares was triggered and Captain Grover's team was attacked. The dragon took off with Grover."

" _We'll come toward you. Try to box him in."_

"Understood," Steve glanced around at the chaos. "Davidson, stay here with your men. Do what you can. We can't risk dragging EMS into this situation."

Davidson nodded.

Danny and Chin caught up to Steve easily, adrenaline burning in their veins as they went east through the jungle. All around the SWAT officers there had been kicked up leaves and overturned rocks, and there had been a set of indistinct tracks leading off. Still no drag marks, though. The smothering ferns and vines gave way to a grove of banyan trees with leaf litter and open patches of dirt between them. It should have been a perfect place to pick up a defined trail.

Steve muttered a curse as the tracks vanished into thin air.

"Are we still going to dismiss my Wyvern theory?" Danny questioned, pushing his hair back as the storm breeze started to whip around them.

Steve lifted his head, a long purple tongue flicking past his lips. His scowl transformed into a wary surprise. He glanced upward.

Banyan trees consisted of tangled prop roots and dense branches, that of which they were currently under. As Danny scanned the canopy above, he had that terrible feeling of being watched again. Slowly, they paced under the tree, sticking close to each other and waiting with bated breaths. The sprinkling rain pitter pattered on the leaves, the breeze rustled and shook the foliage, and Danny could hear the rushing of blood in his ears.

Then they heard the groan of a man.

"Grover?" Steve signaled for them to follow to the area under the branches where it sounded like the groan had come from.

Through the twisted and gnarled limbs, he could sort of see a sprawled out body supported by the canopy. The vague shape turned vaguer as something shifted in the tree, coming between them and what was assumed to be Grover.

For the first time since this whole thing had started, Danny saw the black eyes that were watching him.

His teammates also saw the shining black eyes staring down at them, blinking slowly as it watched. Steve raised his gun and Chin did the same. It would be a hard shot between the branches, and they didn't want to hit Grover. Well, they didn't want to kill him, anyway. He was sure Steve wouldn't think twice if a round clipped him in the arm.

A freakishly long forelimb burst out of the canopy down at them. Danny didn't even have time to comprehend the screwed up anatomy before the incredibly elongated fingers wrapped around Steve like a claw machine and pulled him up into the canopy.

"Steve!"

He and Chin both fired a single shot, but now they had two people they didn't want to hit with their Dragon Slayer rounds and no longer had a visual on the creature.

In hindsight, Danny should have seen it coming from a mile away. There was a screech and a cracking of branches. Steve, fully shifted in all his Arboreal/Amphibian glory, dropped out of the tree with zero grace, his jaws latched onto the hind leg of the other dragon.

"Oh my god," Chin breathed out in disbelief.

Danny echoed the sentiment.

The other dragon turned and swiped at Steve, hitting him with a solid enough blow that it knocked him off its leg. It took on a defensive posture, but its head was cocked curiously at Steve, an unsure gurgling coming from its throat.

Danny could tell the base type for it was a Wyvern, but it looked like no Wyvern he had ever laid eyes on. Extreme height, sloping back, long arcing tail, pale coloration, black horns and spines, and the creepiest black eyes all screamed unnatural. It walked on folded knuckles like a Wyvern, with three normal length fingers on each wing and three long wing fingers that curled off the ground. Except, it was devoid of a wing membrane, rendering it skeletal looking. In fact, the whole creature was skeletal looking.

Without warning, it lunged back up into the tree and they lost their shot again because they'd been too busy ogling it.

Steve shook his head like he was shaking the stars out of his vision. "He's got Grover up there."

With that, Steve lunged up into the canopy after him, leaving an orchestra of breaking branches and shaking leaves in his wake.

Danny followed the commotion at a safe distance. He really didn't want to get squished by a dragon falling out of the tree on top of him. Chin trailed behind, on the radio with Cassandra, updating her on the situation and alerting her there were two dragons and one was a friendly.

"I can't get a clear shot," he snapped.

He pulled up short as Steve dropped out of the canopy again, landing heavily on his side barely six feet in front of him. Scratches and bites that mostly looked superficial stood out against his mottled teal hide. He sucked in a breath and worked his way upright.

"You okay?" Danny questioned.

"Fine. Just knocked the wind out of me," Steve growled, casting his eyes upward. The jungle fell silent again. "He's too fast up there. Moves like nothing I've ever seen."

The tree creaked almost inaudibly above their heads. For such a huge dragon, it could move stealthily.

Danny dove off to the side as it emerged from the canopy again. It wrapped its long fingers around Steve's snout, clamping his jaws shut and shoving his head into the dirt. He rolled onto his back to take his chance at getting a shot in.

What came next would haunt his nightmares until the day he died.

Jaws closed shut around him, enclosing him in the dragon's black mouth. His mind flatlined and his heart crawled up into his throat. As he was jerked up off the ground, the only thought that managed to make it through his panic was that he was glad he had his tac vest on. The teeth around his chest couldn't penetrate the material, but the strong jaws were slowly but surely crushing the air out of his lungs.

This would've been the perfect shot if he hadn't dropped his gun. As it was, his brain finally kicked into overdrive and scales sprouted up his arms. He didn't actually get to the bone shifting stage before he was dropped haphazardly on a tangle of branches.

He rolled to the side as the dragon pivoted quickly and nearly stepped on him in its haste to return to the fight on the jungle floor. He braced himself on the limbs beneath him and sat up, swiping his hands down his arms and over his face to get the saliva off.

"Danny!"

"I'm fine, Steve!" he shouted down, not missing the clear panic in his partner's voice.

He glanced around the canopy, feeling like was trapped in a bush. Through the network of intertwined branches and vines, he could see Grover laying only ten feet away from him. He was starting to come around, mumbling to himself and holding his head like it was going to fall off.

At least he was alive enough to do that. Danny hadn't been sure exactly what state they were going to find him in, if he would be skewered with tree limbs or gutted and beheaded, which made his stomach churn thinking about that happening to someone he knew. Granted, he didn't necessarily like the man, but he knew he had kids and didn't want them to lose their father, especially not to a brutal death like that.

There was an ear piercing scream from below.

Danny crouched carefully on the thick branch he was on, peering down through the canopy. The scream seemed to have come from the other dragon. Was it hurt? Did Steve get it? Or had Chin hit it? He'd heard him steadily firing shots at the creature, but if his counting was right he was running low on rounds, unless he had managed to pick up his or Steve's gun on the ground somewhere.

His eyes widened and he scrambled backward.

Branches exploded in splinters as the creature leapt up through the canopy. Its long fingers snagged branches above their heads. It flipped upside down, hugging to the branches like a sloth and right before Danny's very eyes, its scales rippled into a darker color to mimic its surroundings. If he hadn't known it was right there, he may never have seen it.

Steve pulled himself up through the same opening the creature had made, his breathing ragged and strained. The other dragon was running circles around him. His eyes lit up upon seeing Danny.

Danny pointed at the camouflaged dragon. Steve scanned the branches, taking a moment to pick out the form hidden up there. Black eyes rolled back to look at them two seconds before it let go of the branches and body slammed on top of Steve. Branches cracked underneath the pair of them, dropping them back to the ground fifteen or twenty feet below.

"This is unbelievable," Danny muttered and ran his fingers through his hair. He had this awful feeling he was going to have to shift if help didn't arrive soon.

* * *

Grover gripped his head like his life depended on it, which it might have if his head really was planning on rolling off his shoulders like it felt like it wanted to. There was a growing cacophony of noise around him in crystal clear surround sound. If Will was blasting music downstairs again, he was going to be in a world of hurt. He peeled open his eyes, momentarily confused by the branches crisscrossing around him.

Everything came rushing back.

He groaned and rolled onto his side. The branches supporting him bounced with the movement. Sitting still, he calculated which way he should move so he didn't crash to the jungle floor below, which appeared to have quite the interesting scene going on.

Pushing himself back onto a thicker limb, he squinted through the gaps in the branches. The freaky monstrosity stumbled into view, pursued by a decent sized Arboreal dragon. He furrowed his brows. They had only been hunting one dragon, right?

He spotted Chin darting away from the action when it got too close, only realizing afterward the constant ringing in his ears was gunfire. That and the blood curdling, make-your-skin-crawl scream the monster produced. The Arboreal shook its head, giving the other the chance to rear up on its hind legs and strike out with its freaky long, bony fingers.

The gunshots increased in quantity as Cassandra's team arrived.

Grover winced as he reached down to the handgun holstered on his leg. He wasn't sure what he had hurt, but as long as he was still functioning, he wasn't going to leave them high and dry.

Startled by the extra firepower, the monstrosity bolted. Bolted, he noticed, back up into the tree he was in. He sat up, seeing Danny crouched on the branches not too far away, appearing to be unarmed and a little frazzled. His head swam briefly as he waited until he caught sight of the pale scales and black eyes.

Dragons were notorious for being hard to take down with regular rounds. Not impossible, but hard. Wyverns, Cliffs, and some Drakes had bullet proof scaling along their backs, necks, ribcages, and bellies that made it difficult to do any damage even with a Dragon Slayer round. Muddy genes, and apparently genetic mutants, were even worse. This thing didn't look heavily armored, but it was. It had taken multiple shots to the chest without barely a mark left to show for it. That was why it had managed to take his team by surprise. Not this time. This time he knew where to aim.

The creature took notice of Danny and bared its spiny teeth.

Grover narrowed his eyes, lined up his shot, and pulled the trigger.

The creature shrieked with that piercing howl as blood splattered from its face. It stumbled awkwardly, stepping wrong on the branches and falling through the canopy.

"Gotcha," he grumbled.

* * *

Danny had been ready to shift and tip the odds in their favor when the crack of the gun nearly deafened him in his right ear. The shot looked like it went through the nasal cavity of the creature, but he couldn't be sure in all the confusion and especially not after it dropped through the canopy. He glanced over his shoulder at Grover.

"That was a hell of a shot," he said.

"Damn right it was," Grover said.

Danny shook his head, silently thankful that he hadn't needed to shift after all. It was one thing when it was just their team up in the jungle facing down someone like Wo Fat, but another when SWAT and another unfamiliar team were present. He would have done it, though, to protect Steve and Chin, and he guessed to protect Grover. Grudgingly.

He watched through the gap in the branches as Cassandra's team raced in. They warily kept their distance at first, but then eventually drew in close.

Not being able to stand being out of the loop anymore, he looked for a strong enough prop root and clambered down it like a fire pole. Steve stood by with a grim look on his face, still breathing heavily and favoring one hind leg over the other. Chin had a solemn look as well.

The dragon wasn't dead yet. Danny wasn't sure if the shot through the nasal cavity would kill it or not. It was very still and moaning quietly, though.

He saw a flicker of movement. "Cassandra–"

Cassandra ignored him and approached the dragon anyway. She crouched by its monstrous head. One black eye shifted to look at her.

Danny crossed his arms over his chest, feeling thoroughly conflicted as he watched Cassandra murmur softly and stroke her hand over the dragon's bloody face. It didn't move, only made a keening whine. For all the fire and rage it had displayed earlier, it looked sad now. Defeated. Confused. Helpless.

"You know, they say the only true monsters are men," Chin said, also watching the strange interaction.

And Danny had to agree. Only a monster would play God with their fellow man like this and then pretend like they had never done such a thing. It left an acrid taste in his mouth.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Grace catches her dad with his wings out and the two share a quiet moment.**

 **I decided to leave the ending sort of ambiguous. Hope you guys don't mind. ;)**

 **Thank you for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! And thank you to the guest reviewers I can't reply to directly.**


	85. Fact 72

**Some after action calming down.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #72: Despite their quick healing factor and all the incomprehensible shifting, dragons retain scars, both physical and mental.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

Grace made a face as she swept through the living room and kitchen with still no sign of her dad. That left one more place. She poked her head through the partially closed door into his bedroom. There he was. Laying on face down on the bed. Normally, she'd leave him alone and let him nap, but he had his wings out. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

"Psst," she stage whispered. Startling him awake was something she had learned not to do. "Psst, Danno."

"Hmm?" the sleepy mumble came. He rolled slightly, lifting one wing to peer over his shoulder at her. "Watcha need, Monkey?"

Grace padded through the room over to the bed and sat on the edge. "You okay?"

His brows furrowed in confusion. She could already see what he was thinking. He was her dad, _he_ was supposed to be the one to ask if _she_ was okay. But, in her experience, he only ever had his wings out if he was having a nightmare.

"I'm fine," he said. He folded one wing so he could leverage himself up onto his elbow.

"Okay," she said half-heartedly.

He flicked a hand out at her and changed the topic of conversation. "Did you have fun at Lana's slumber party?"

She shrugged. "It was okay. I think I would've rather been out trick-or-treating with you."

She hadn't been sure what exactly had happened yesterday afternoon, which had been Halloween. She only knew that whatever her dad and his team had been doing had taken most of the day and that she didn't get to see him last night. Also, he was sleeping in the middle of the day after picking her up from her friend's house this morning. He hardly ever napped.

"I know, Monkey, I know," he sighed.

This time, she decided to change the topic. "You know, I've got gold in my scales, too."

Her dad held up a wing, curling it inward a little. The burnt umbers, cinnamons, and golds marbled across the membrane like a canyon wall. She held up her arm and flashed him auburn and gold scales. He smirked at her.

"You take after me more than your mom would like, no?" he said.

She offered a small laugh. Her eyes drifted down from the scaling on his shoulders to his arms, frowning for a moment. His left bicep had a jagged scar on it. It wasn't that she'd never seen it before, but now she wondered why it was there.

"How come your lucky arm doesn't heal like everything else?" she asked.

He glanced at the aforementioned scar. "Lucky arm, huh? Since when is it lucky?"

"That's what Uncle Steve calls it," she said.

He rolled his eyes. "Of course that's what the Neanderthal calls it. I've been shot in this arm twice, almost in the exact same place. I'd say it's more of an unlucky arm."

Grace nodded in agreement, eyes traveling from his bicep to the new semi-faded scar under his collarbone on the same side. "Maybe you're just unlucky."

He reached out his hand to her. She took it and crawled up the bed to sit next to him. One wing wrapped around her comfortingly. "I'm not unlucky. I'm the luckiest man in the world."

"But you get hurt all the time," she said.

"Yeah, that's true. But I always come home, right?" he kept his arm over her shoulders, holding her close. "And I've got the greatest daughter in the world, and I love my job and my team."

"Even Uncle Steve," she grinned and tilted her head back to catch his reaction.

He let out a long suffering sigh. "Yes, even Uncle Steve, the big goof."

She pulled her knees up to her chest. She squinted at one spot on her right knee. "I've got a scar right here."

He leaned forward to look at it. "And how'd you get that?"

"I dunno," she said.

"You don't know how you got a scar? What're you, so pain tolerant you don't notice when you hurt yourself, huh, tough girl?" he teased.

"Well, where'd that bruise come from?" she poked at a purple mark on his chest. "You told me before you don't know where half your bruises come from."

"But I'm old. I can play the senile card," he said simply.

"Danno!" she nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, laughing. "You're not _that_ old."

* * *

Steve twitched uneasily in his sleep.

 _With his head firmly smashed into the ground by the fifteen foot tall mutant dragon, he could only watch helplessly as the monster lunged out at his partner. He frantically lashed out with a hind foot, catching nothing but air. A muffled yell caught in his throat._

 _A black mouth closed over Danny, half of his body easily fitting inside the monstrous dragon's jaws, spiny and interlocking teeth trapping him. With no other backup to help and the bullets from Chin's gun having no effect on the dragon, nothing could stop it._

 _He wrenched himself free of its grasp, but not before it could swallow his partner whole. With a flick of its head and a snap of its jaws, Danny was gone._

" _Danny!"_

He jerked awake, panting heavily and staring across his room at the wall.

"Steve?"

He rolled onto his back and Catherine rolled over to tuck into his side. She placed a hand on his chest. She could probably feel his heart beating its way out of his ribcage and how his breaths were only starting to slow down.

"Hey, you okay?"

He raised a hand to rub his forehead. "Yeah. Just having a bad what-if dream."

She nodded. They'd been together long enough for her know what he was talking about. "What's it about this time?"

"That mutant dragon we caught yesterday," he said. He exhaled and focused on his dark ceiling. "It grabbed Danny in its mouth and took him up into the trees."

"But he's okay," she said.

"Yeah, but the way it grabbed him, Cath," he shuddered involuntarily. He'd never encountered a dragon so large it could fit almost a whole human in its mouth. "And it had me pinned. I couldn't do anything."

"Steve," she reached her hand up and stroked the side of his face. "Your team is good. They can handle themselves."

"I know," he breathed out in a sigh. Danny's words from yesterday came back to him. He shifted onto his side so he was facing Catherine. "What would you think about joining Five-0?"

"Just because you had a nightmare doesn't mean you need to put me on the team," she said.

"It's not because of that," he said. "I still don't know when Kono's coming back, and we work better as a four man team. That way someone always has your back. And I trust you, Cath."

She raised a brow. "Did you run this by Chin and Danny first, or are you pulling your benevolent dictator card?"

He smirked. "It was actually Danny's idea."

"Oh, well then," she leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips. "Happy to serve, Commander."

He pulled her close. "Welcome to the team."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Grover comes to grips with the other dragon he saw in the jungle.**

 **Just something light. I'm going to bring Kono back here in a few chapters. I'm tired of not writing her in, show timeline be darned.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing (almost 500 reviews!), faving, and following this series!**


	86. Fact 73

**Hey, nice and tense moment between characters.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #73: A shared secret can form a bond between people. What kind of bond they share, though, may remain uncertain.**

 **Season: Early Season 4**

Grover slowly pulled on his pants, moving about in his bedroom as quietly as he could at this early hour in the morning. Renee was still buried under their comforter. He grabbed a polo shirt off its hanger and stopped briefly as he passed by the body length mirror on the wall. His face hardened as his eyes landed on the scars raking across his chest before he hastily covered them with the shirt.

"Lou, baby, where're you going?"

He glanced over his shoulder at his wife. "It's okay, go back to sleep. I'm just meeting someone for coffee."

Renee surfaced from the mountain of covers and peered at the clock perched on the nightstand. "At five in the morning?"

"Figured I'd make it as much of an inconvenience as I could," he muttered as he reached for the doorknob.

"Hey."

He looked back at her sitting up in bed.

"I love you."

"Love you too, honey."

The drive was quick and painless. He had preempted the rush hour traffic by leaving far earlier than what most people headed to work at, far earlier than what most sane people would even be awake at. Of course, the person he was meeting was far from sane.

He frowned at the Silverado already parked at the diner. He was even ten minutes early. How long had McGarrett been here?

It wasn't hard to spot the Commander sitting at a booth with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. He was the only other patron present beside the lone soul on a barstool looking like he was nursing a hangover.

Grover slid into the seat opposite of him. He ran his eye over him, over the scruffy hair and tired eyes, over the scratches not quite hidden by his shirt and the bruise on his jaw. "You're here early. What? Couldn't sleep last night?"

McGarrett set the newspaper down and sipped his coffee. "Was already up."

"Already up doing what?" Grover questioned, nodding at the waitress as she poured him a mug. "Plotting how you're going to get away with breaking the rules today?"

"You know, I'm sick of you giving me flak for the way my team operates," McGarrett snapped, though it came out more as a growl. Grover could see why Williams called him an animal and a Neanderthal. "We've been keeping this island safe since long before you got here. And we'll still be keeping it safe long after you leave."

"Is that a threat?" Grover raised his brows.

McGarrett didn't answer.

"Let me let you in on a secret, McGarrett," Grover pushed the mug aside and rested his arms on the table. "The Governor may like you're little vigilante team right now while it's useful and effective, but as soon as you do something that blows back on him, he's going to cut you loose. Your immunity and means won't mean squat then."

"And if that day comes, I'll deal with it," McGarrett said. "But, I'm going to let you in on a secret, Captain. The Governor knows that the only way to get some things done is to bend the rules."

Grover sat back in the booth and brought his mug with him. He didn't appreciate how the Governor sided with Five-0 on this issue, nor could he argue McGarrett didn't have a point about rules sometimes getting in the way of justice. Not that he would admit it aloud. "Rules are there for a reason. They protect the people and they protect the cops that uphold them, but you just expect them to follow you into whatever situation. Not all these officers are ex-Navy SEALs. Hell, even your own team members are just cops with no extra training. And news flash for you, you're not invincible, either."

"What's that supposed to mean?" McGarrett scowled at him.

"I've seen the way you handle situations. One day, you're going to get yourself or one of your friends killed because you thought you were untouchable," Grover said. He took a sip of his coffee, letting the hot and strong brew ease some of his tension.

"I can't tell if you're pissed because you care or what."

He huffed out a laugh. "Honestly, I don't give a hoot what happens to you. I'm just letting you know, man to man, that if something happens to your team, that's on your head and it's going to stick with you for the rest of your life. I also don't want you putting my men in danger anymore, like hunting monsters up in the jungle."

"No one died," McGarrett said, as if that made everything okay.

"Lee is on leave for three months because of a fractured leg, Glenfield isn't due back for two weeks because of his head, and Kahananui has whiplash from getting punted into a tree," he said.

"And you're alive because of my team," McGarrett added.

He drummed his fingers on the table and stared down the Commander. "I've gotta say, my vision was spinning a little bit and I had a hard time making out what was going on the ground, but I could've sworn I saw _two_ dragons."

McGarrett held his gaze steadily, but he saw the muscle in his jaw tighten. "And?"

He leaned forward on his elbows and clasped his hands on the table in front of him. "And I didn't see you down there, plus you happen to be covered in scratches and bruises like you were in a brawl with something big. Maybe it's the mother of all coincidences, maybe I imagined the whole thing."

Silence.

"I know, McGarrett," he said lowly. He shot a glance around the empty diner. No one was close by.

"You know what, Grover?" McGarrett asked just as lowly in a daring tone.

"I know why you think you're invincible," he said. "Just because you've got some freaky DNA doesn't mean you can break the rules and go rogue whenever you feel like it. That's not how it works."

McGarrett leaned forward as well, his face coming uncomfortably close to his. "Is that why you asked me to meet you? So you could make a claim you don't have any evidence to back up?"

Grover grinned grimly at him. "I don't know what sort of man you think I am, but I don't make claims I can't back up."

"Then is this a warning?" McGarrett asked.

Grover sat back again. He looked out the window at the graying dawn and at the people beginning to creep from their homes onto the streets. He tapped his fingers on the rim of his mug. "I don't know what sort of man you think I am," he repeated quieter, "but I don't have anything against dragons."

McGarrett perked a brow at him.

"I want to tell you a story," he said. "So listen up."

McGarrett eased back from his hunched position and spread one arm across the back of the booth. He waited for him to continue.

"Five years ago, back in Chicago, there was a string of violent crimes being committed in my district," he started. Not many people here in Hawaii knew this story, and McGarrett seemed like the last person he would tell, but he wanted to make a point with him. "No evidence left at the scenes. This guy was good. All we had was eye witness testimony. We managed to catch him based on a description."

He fell quiet as the waitress returned to refill their mugs. She asked if they wanted something to eat, but both of them declined.

"We all knew this guy did it, McGarrett. It was a gut feeling that everyone involved had," he sighed.

"But you didn't have any physical evidence," McGarrett said evenly.

"No. And here's the kicker. We got a confession out of him," he continued. He gripped the mug tightly, glaring at the dark coffee inside it. "But it was inadmissible because the detective interrogating him screwed up and pounded the living daylights out of the guy."

McGarrett winced. Grover wasn't sure why. He wondered if it had anything to do with the rumors of his creative interrogation techniques. One wrong move on their part and a case could easily get thrown out the window and a bad guy would walk.

"So this guy, this slime ball, he gets to waltz out of the station with this grin on his face. He provoked the detective into attacking him, you can hear it on the tape, but it didn't matter," he shook his head and drew in a long sip of coffee. Nice and bitter, just how he felt about this case from the past. "Two days later, his body shows up in the morgue."

"One of the cops?" McGarrett asked.

"One of my men," he corrected. "He was a Drake and that's how he killed him. He was arrested, but the media had already gotten wind of him being a dragon. You know how it goes, the story got all twisted and before we knew it, we had a riot outside the station, people all up in arms about rights and xenophobia and everything in between."

McGarrett nodded.

"Anyway, my guys are out there holding these nutcases back along with a Dragons' Rights team when this Drake breaks out of the crowd and attacks us," he said, resisting the urge to touch the scars on his chest. "This guy shreds through our gear like it was paper. He must have been high on Devil's Tongue or something, because he was absolutely rabid. He tries to flay me open and my life flashes before my eyes, but then this Arboreal grabs this guy around the neck like he's a ragdoll and drags him off of me."

He was almost pleased when he glanced up to see McGarrett engrossed in the story.

"My point is that dragons are people and come from all walks of life, and I don't have anything against them. What I do have is something against people that think they can get away with things because they're a dragon," he said pointedly.

"Dragon or no, I would still be doing things the way I do them now," McGarrett muttered.

Grover dropped a few dollars on the table and stood up. "I only let you know that I know as a curtesy. You're not some dark knight cleaning up the streets of Gotham here, McGarrett. Start treating the rules with respect before someone winds up hurt. Or dead."

He walked out of the diner not knowing if he accomplished anything. McGarrett was stubborn and stuck in his ways.

Once he was back in his car, he put his hand to his chest were the four diagonal, foot long scars ran. It was one thing for a human to play vigilante, they only had a limited amount of power to do anything. A dragon, though, had a certain power behind them, especially if they were a cop. The lines were too easily blurred and as he sat in his car, he wondered if McGarrett would cross those lines one day and name himself judge, jury, and executioner.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Kono comes home.**

 **Phew, writing Grover without vilifying him is harder than you think. I like him better as the deadpan snarker he turns into in S8 and S9.**

 **Thank you all for continuing to read, review, fave, and follow! Thank you to guest reviewers that I can't directly reply to!**


	87. Fact 74

**Ah, bringing our girl back.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading! And for persevering with me. ;)**

* * *

 **Fact #74: Not even thousands of miles and a couple of assassins can keep a den of dragons from reuniting.**

 **Season: Early-mid Season 4**

This was the most peace she'd had in months. Busy as the airport was, she was finally at peace. The only belongings she had taken on her journey were stuffed in a small duffle which she slung over her shoulder. Her hand fished through the space next to her until she could wrap her fingers around another warm hand.

Adam smiled at her. "We're home."

"We're home," she echoed.

After months of dodging assassins around Asia and then searching for her boyfriend across the continents, Kono was finally back on Oahu.

She was looking forward to sleeping in her own bed without worrying about someone sneaking in to kill her in the middle of the night. All the amenities like food, water, and most important of all, malasadas, would be at her fingertips again. A reliable shower with hot water, a toilet that didn't have a draft, and soft towels had merely been wishes that last few months.

But she was home now.

She could go surfing again. It had been rough not being able to excise her pent up stress by paddling out in the early morning sun and sitting on quiet turquoise waters as she watched the waves roll toward shore. Maybe she'd hit up Keola and see if she wanted to get together to spend a few hours on the waves. She'd definitely get Steve out in the water with her, maybe Danny, too.

Steve. Danny. Grace. Kamekona. Max. Her friends. Her cousins. It felt like a piece of her had been missing in the last few months, creating an empty void in her chest. Her _ohana_ was the thing she had missed most. And one person in particular had been her anchor, keeping her from drifting too far off the map.

A grin split her face from ear to ear as she spotted the familiar broad shouldered figure standing by a baggage carousel.

"Chin!"

He smiled warmly.

Kono sprinted the last few yards and threw herself into him, wrapping her arms around him tightly, praying she'd never have to leave like that again. He hugged her close. His firm and unyielding embrace seemed to squish all her missing pieces back together and a few tears slipped out.

She was home.

"I missed you, cuz," he murmured, voice husky with emotion.

"I missed you, too," she murmured back.

He pulled away reluctantly and clapped Adam on the shoulder. "Welcome back."

"It's good to be back," Adam said.

Seeing as neither of them had taken many possessions with them, they didn't have to wait for any baggage to come around and could follow Chin out of the doors into the humid air. Kono inhaled deeply. It smelled like home.

Chin glanced at his phone, excused himself briefly, and answered it off to the side.

"What do you say we get takeout from Kamekona's tonight?" Adam suggested.

Kono furrowed her brows at her cousin, but nodded. "Sounds great."

Chin walked back over to them and continued leading them to his car. Kono didn't fail to notice how tension had worked its way into his shoulders and how his face had taken on a slightly grim appearance. Was it a case? She had a lot to catch up on, she knew that. She'd heard tidbits about protecting a rockstar, something about a treasure hunt, and more disturbingly about a stalker that had abducted Steve and Cath and had shot Danny with a crossbow or something.

"What's up, cuz?" she asked quietly once the Traverse came into view.

He sighed. "We have a situation."

He clasped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in close so he could whisper in her ear. Her eyes went wide.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", the situation is far worse than what Kono anticipated.**

 **It's about time I brought Kono back. I know it's bitty, but I hope you guys enjoyed this short little chapter. Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	88. Fact 75

**The situation is here. *straps on flak jacket***

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #75: All the king's horses and all the king's men, still couldn't save the dragon in the end.**

 **Season: Early-mid Season 4**

As she hung up her cellphone, Mauna felt her previous thought was applicable. She had a hypothesis. The ER at King's only became crazy when she was picking up a shift. After receiving collaborating accounts from various nurses and from Hale, she knew they usually didn't have this kind of traffic on most days. Only on the days she was present. She was like some kind of bad luck charm.

"Male, late thirties, GSW to the abdomen. Get the trauma bay prepped."

She heaved a sigh as the alert proved her hypothesis. It was going to be her patient when he arrived until she handed him off to a surgeon. Or declared time of death. It didn't take her long to get her personal protection equipment on as she mentally went through the endless issues that could or would crop up with an abdominal GSW. Internal bleeding for sure, possible nicked arteries or veins, perforated organs, shock, the list went on and on.

She was a cool headed doctor. That coolness was something she prided herself on as it helped her make rational decisions when working on patients and in high octane situations. Like when a Wyvern had been running amok a few floors above last year. It didn't necessarily help her with her bedside manners, but she figured if the patient lived, she could suffer some dirty looks.

Her cool headedness evaporated as the bay doors opened and the paramedics wheeled the gurney in. Immediately, she clawed the evaporating coolness back because now more than ever she was going to need it.

* * *

Kono rushed into the waiting room. It had become such a common occurrence that she didn't even have déjà vu. This time, though, her stomach was in her throat when she spotted Steve hovering by the ER doors, looking lost. His hands were crimson and blood flecked his face.

"Steve!" she said before ever touching him. He looked like a spooked animal right now.

He turned to her. He blinked, like he was just seeing her. Or trying to figure out why she was there, at least.

"Kono," he whispered and reached out to wrap his arms around her, but kept his bloody hands from touching her. "When did you get in?"

"Barely an hour ago. Chin got the call and we came straight here," she said.

Steve looked past her at her cousin and at Adam standing nervously by the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, both of them looking at him with concern. Kono squeezed his bicep reassuringly.

"What happened?" she asked.

"We were at the Palace, talking by the car," Steve said hollowly. He squinted and went to scrub his hands through his hair, then thought better of it. His fingers curled into fists instead. "There was a crack. I blinked and then Danny was down. It was a sniper rifle."

Kono swallowed thickly. Her eyes pricked with tears. "How bad?"

"It was…he…uh…." Steve stammered, glaring at the tiles on the floor.

Kono cupped her face in her hands. If it was bad enough to render Steve unable to talk, it was serious. The amount of blood he had on him was of no comfort, either. This was the last thing she had been expecting to come home to. She had wanted to go surfing with her _ohana_ , not hear one had gotten shot and stand in the waiting room with the others.

Exhaling heavily, she pushed her hair back from her face and opened her mouth to say something when the doors to the ER opened and Mauna walked out. Kono's lips pressed into a firm line. The doctor was stern and rigid on a good day, but today she was missing something. The fire in her eyes was gone.

Steve whipped around. "How is he?"

Mauna rolled her neck and pulled her shoulders back. Her warm amber eyes flickered uncertainly. "You need to sit down."

"No," Steve snapped and came face-to-face with her. Literally. With her being so tall she was completely eye level with him and he couldn't tower over her as an intimidation tactic. His tone of voice changed from angry to panicked. "What's going on? How is he? Where is he?"

"Steve," Mauna said, but it sounded like a warning.

Kono glanced back at Chin. Mauna usually called him McGarrett, not Steve. Her stomach flip flopped before an icy chill flooded her veins, forcing a sweat on her palms and a queasy feeling in her gut.

"Tell me. Now," Steve growled.

Mauna's eyes darted around the waiting room, glancing at the blonde mother and child, at the graying and muscular older gentleman, at the shaggy headed surfer, at the lone wary teenager clad all in black, at the other patients who were trying to inconspicuously and nosily listen in. Her eyes returned to hold his gaze steadily and she lowered her voice. "The bullet nicked the descending aorta."

Kono sucked in a breath and Steve's aggressive posture crumbled a bit, to the point where he had to step back from the doctor.

"He bled out on the table," Mauna said softly, softer than anyone on the team had ever heard her. Her smoky voice cracked. "He's dead."

"No," Steve croaked and shook his head. "No, that's not - he can't be dead. It wasn't - how could you let him bleed out?"

Kono put her arm across Steve's chest when it looked like he was going to get physical with Mauna. She didn't doubt the doctor could hold her own against him, but the dark look on her face hinted that if he pushed her, it would morph into an all out brawl right then and there.

She glanced at the doctor as she walked away toward the ER doors.

Chin trotted by them and caught up with her, exchanging a quick and hushed conversation. Mauna made a gesture with her hands. He nodded. She muttered quietly and stood up straighter. She shot a look over her shoulder at them, then crossed her arms over her chest and waited just outside the doors.

"Steve?" Kono asked hesitantly when she realized he hadn't moved. She was going to blame the jet lag for how slowly this was all catching up to her. It would hit probably ten minutes after it should have. And it would hit hard. For now, though, she was going to hold it together.

"He's dead," he said hoarsely. A low sound came from his throat, and she could pinpoint it neither as a growl nor a groan. He cast wary eyes over at Chin and the doctor, both of whom gave him a sad head shake. "He's…he can't be…it should've been me…."

She inhaled. "Steve, it's going–"

"No! It's not going to be okay!"

Aha. This was what she had been expecting. The raging Navy SEAL. Steve drew up to his full height and threw his arms out to the sides, his thundering voice scaring the other patients in the waiting room. Mauna held a hand up haltingly as a security officer approached.

"My partner's gone!" he roared. A tremble appeared amidst the rage. "Danny's dead. And that will never be okay."

* * *

 **How's _that_ for sticking to canon?**

 **Next week on "Dragons", more people show up to the funeral than expected.**

 **Thank y'all for reading, reviewing, faving, following, and _sticking_ with me on this crazy thing!**


	89. Fact 76

**Feel like I need a helmet in addition to my flak jacket after the response to the last chapter.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #76: In the end, man and beast are all just dust.**

 **Season: Early-mid Season 4**

Steve imagined Danny would have called the funeral a shotgun funeral. It had been arranged quickly due to the burial laws on Oahu, and the notice had been short. Much to his surprise, quite a few people showed up for the actual service. He hadn't invited them, he didn't think Rachel had invited them, which left him to believe the time and place must have gotten around by word of mouth.

He wondered if Danny knew how many friends he had. Or at least how many people respected him enough to attend his funeral, shotgun though it was.

Rachel and Grace he knew would be here, of course. Rachel wore a haunted expression, her face was currently dry but her red eyes told a different story. She held Charlie close to her. Poor kid looked confused about what was going on, looking between Rachel and then Stan standing next to her. And Grace stood stoically, staring at where the casket had been lowered with an unreadable look. He had to give her credit for being brave like her dad.

Kono stood next to Grace like an immovable tree in this tumultuous gale of emotions. Wearing a loose black button down shirt and black slacks, standing rigidly and protectively next to Danny's family, she was grim. Steve sighed. This shouldn't have been what she came home to. Adam stood next to her, his hand wrapped in hers.

Chin hovered close to the other side of Rachel, his calm and reserved nature permeating to those around him. Danny had always appreciated his rock solid personality. His willingness to stand behind his team no matter what. He would appreciate him standing with his family today.

Steve swallowed and looked away. He should have been standing next to them, but couldn't bring himself to get too close. He didn't trust himself to not break down.

"Steve."

He inclined his head toward the voice.

"Grover," he greeted tightly.

Grover was in his SWAT uniform like he had to break away from work to come. Steve had seen him standing amongst the others he hadn't expected to see during the brief service.

"Williams was a good cop," Grover said slowly. He tilted his head toward the ones still standing around the grave. "Take care of his family."

Grover patted his shoulder and as he started to walk away, Steve asked, "No lecture about how this was my fault? About how you warned me this would happen?"

He heard the Captain exhale heavily before he turned around to meet his eyes.

"You don't kick a man when he's down. And this? This wasn't your fault," Grover said and then continued walking back to the cars parked on the other side of the wrought iron fence surrounding the cemetery.

But it easily could have been his fault. The sniper shot had come out of nowhere, ripping through the warm sunny afternoon and ripping through his partner. He could still hear the ringing in his ears, feel and smell the blood on his hands, taste the bile in his mouth, see Mauna's face when she told him.

He let out a trembling breath.

The doctor had been here, looking extremely out of place in a black shirt and skirt instead of her teal scrubs. Kori, the nurse, had been here in her scrubs. She must have just gotten off a shift. Toast had been here in a rumpled suit. Kamekona and Flippa had been here and both had hugged them all, but hugged Grace the hardest. Max had been here. Fong had been here. Duke had been here. Several officers from HPD had been here, some in uniform and some in civilian clothes. Brooklyn and her husband had been here. People he didn't recognize had been here. The Governor had been the icing on the cake.

He rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn't expected that many people to show up.

"Steve."

Catherine came to stand by him, her voice gentle and soft. He smiled a small smile. The only ones left in the cemetery were his teammates all in black and Danny's family. Well, he supposed they were all Danny's family. Despite how his partner always ranted he was going to get him killed one day, Steve had firmly thought if they went down, they were going to go down in a blaze of glory together. Probably in a hail of gunfire or an explosion or, with how their luck was, get mauled by some freak dragon that no one else would ever encounter in their lifetime.

He shook his head. All it took was one bullet to drastically change a life. Several lives.

"Are you okay?" Catherine asked.

He nodded and glanced around the cemetery. It was a quiet inland one situated on the base of the mountains slope. To their right was the thick jungle as it climbed away higher and higher, to the left he could see the road snaking down through the trees. It wasn't terribly far from civilization.

"Take the perimeter," he muttered.

Catherine slipped away through the headstones toward the wrought iron fence encompassing the plot of land. He lifted his head and let a partially shifted tongue slip between his teeth. Humans. Rain. Freshly clipped grass. There was a taste of blood, but he knew that to be a ghost taste, not something he was sensing currently. No chemicals or explosives in the air. Not any he could taste, at least.

He shot another look at the cemetery. The trees were close together, their canopies entangling above their heads with sparse patches that revealed the ashen sky. There was a reason he had preempted his partner's choice of cemetery for this one. Line of sight from the outside was severely limited here.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

"Cath," he answered evenly. He dug a finger under the collar of his black shirt. Between the suit jacket, adrenaline, and the vest under his shirt, he was roasting.

" _I think I found our guy's exit strategy. There's a gap in the fence back here and it looks like someone tried to hide an ATV in the brush."_

Steve pivoted on his heel casually. "In the northwest corner?"

" _Yeah. You want me to keep this area covered?"_

"Stay put. Keep your eyes peeled," he said and hung up.

Chin raised a brow at him. He cocked his head toward the front gates.

Steve walked toward the family slowly with his hands in his pockets and simultaneously looked over his shoulder where Chin was gesturing. A groundskeeper was hunched over arranging flowers at another grave. He narrowed his eyes at the man.

"Rachel, are you ready to go?" he asked, turning his attention to his partner's ex.

Rachel dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and nodded. She took Charlie's hand and started to lead him away. "Grace, darling, come along."

Grace stubbornly remained at the edge of the grave. "I'm not leaving."

"Grace," Rachel sighed a watery sigh, a fresh stream of tears leaking out.

"It's okay," Kono said. She crouched by Grace with her arm around her shoulders. "I'll stay with her."

Rachel hesitated, but relented. She ushered Charlie along and Stan offered his support at her side. Chin took a position close to them on one side while Steve flanked the other.

As they drew closer to where the groundskeeper was dutifully ignoring them, Steve snorted. Shaggy air poked out from underneath the ball cap on the man's head.

"Danny always had my six," he said. Rachel looked at him with slight confusion and Chin reached behind his back. "I promised him I would have yours."

No sooner had he pulled his gun from his shoulder holster had the groundskeeper bolted from his position, firing off two shots as he ran. They had him now.

"Chin, get them to cover," he ordered, sprinting after the man and ducking behind a tree. He fired a retaliation to the shot that chipped the bark off next to his head.

This is where it ended. They'd had no clue who had abruptly sent Danny the threatening notes barely even five days ago. They'd had no clue if or when the guy would strike. They'd had no clue that, despite their best efforts at keeping their friend safe, the guy would use a Dragon Slayer round to penetrate the vest Danny had been wearing that day.

But they did have a clue that he was going to try to take out the rest of Danny's family, and there was no better place to do so than the funeral.

He looked toward the grave site. Kono had Grace hidden behind her father's hefty and solid headstone with Adam beside her. A smirk cracked his face. She hadn't needed much time to fall back into the rhythm of things.

* * *

Kono could see the guy behind a tree, just the edge of him, though. If she was remembering correctly, he was the surfer that had been in the ER waiting room two days ago when Mauna had delivered the news about Danny. If she had made a bet, she would've lost, because she would've figured the older military looking gentleman in the ER had been a more likely sniper candidate.

She growled and pulled back around the tree. Her handgun wasn't cutting it. There was a steady report of gunfire from Steve, giving her enough cover to dash from the tree to the open grave. She leapt into the hole in the ground and landed on the casket with a thump.

"Only Steve would hide a rifle in a casket," she grunted as she pulled open the lid. She grabbed the familiar rifle, it was her preferred one after all, and let the lid close with a hollow clatter.

Danny would've gotten a kick out of that. Or maybe torn Steve a new one for using his casket as a weapon cache. He'd have something to say about it either way. Kono grinned despite herself, already dreaming up a Category 5 Hurricane Danny worthy rant while she prepped the rifle and lined up a shot.

She waited. Breathe in. And out. In. Out. Steve ducked behind his tree again. The man leaned around to return fire. In. Her finger tightened on the trigger. And out.

The rifle kicked her shoulder and her ears momentarily rang from the massive bang. The bark on the tree exploded in a hail of wood splinters and blood. She was sure there had been an agonized scream, but her ears were still partially deaf, so she didn't hear it nor care.

Once Steve had raced over and kicked the gun away, she hauled herself out of the grave and dusted her clothes off.

"Grace! Grace!"

Kono looked up at Rachel running toward them. Adam relinquished his protective hold on the eleven year old and let her run into her mom's arms. She wasn't crying or sobbing in fear like Charlie, but anyone that young caught in the middle of a gunfight was going to be shaken up.

"Remind me never to piss you off."

She glanced at Adam with a sweet grin. He knew what he was getting into with her.

Seeing as everyone on her side of the cemetery was okay, she trotted over to her cousin and Steve standing over their sniper. He was gasping like a fish out of water. She cringed.

"I'm sorry, Boss. I only meant to wing him," she said.

Steve kept his hands pressed against the profusely bleeding wound in the man's shoulder. "You don't get to get out of this that easily. Why? Why did you do it? Who are you?"

"P-p-paid," the man slurred.

Kono drug her fingers through her air. She must've hit the subclavian artery. Not good. They needed him alive.

"Who paid you?" Steve questioned. He slapped the man's cheek when his eyes shuttered. "Hey, who paid you?"

"D-d-doesn't m-matter."

"The hell it does! Hey, look at me," Steve was snarling now. Kono half-expected him to shift and really give the guy a good scare before he died. "You're going to live, and if you don't start talking now, I'm going to make sure your actual death is even slower and more painful than this."

The man rasped a chuckle. "S-screw y-y-you."

Steve shoved more of his weight down on the injury, making the man arch and try to twist away from him. "Or I can make your current death even worse. Up to you."

The man gulped at the air greedily, color draining from his face with every second that ticked by. "F-f-fine."

"Who paid you to take a shot a Danny Williams and to kill his family?" Steve questioned again.

"G-guy in p-p-" The man choked. Kono ground her teeth. Why couldn't she have just clipped his shoulder like she meant to?

"Who?!"

"J-j-"

Kono turned away as he fell slack under Steve's hands. There went their most promising lead. Now it was going to fall back on them to find paper trails and do some good old fashioned police work, which could lead them straight to a dead end with nowhere to turn.

"I'm sorry. I only meant to wing him," she muttered again.

Steve heaved a sigh and stood up. "He wasn't making it easy to bring him in alive. Chin, go meet up with Cath in the northwest corner. She found an ATV. Maybe we can pull something off of it."

"Hey, you gonna be okay, brah?" Chin asked before he headed over there.

Steve glared at the blood on his hands. "Yeah. Fine."

Chin glanced at Kono. She gave him a nod before he took off toward Catherine. She'd keep an eye on their boss so he didn't stomp off into a rage and do something stupid.

"What's the plan?" she asked.

"We find out everything there is to know about this guy. If we can access his bank records, maybe we can trace his transactions back to whoever hired him," Steve said. He looked over at Danny's family crowded nervously around the grave site and shook his head. "Until we get this thing figured out, I want units on them and their house. Only Duke's most trusted men."

"Got it," she nodded, following his line of sight.

Grace caught her eye and came running over. She attached herself to Kono, looking warily at the blood on Steve's hands. "Did you get the bad guy?"

Kono shuffled so Grace couldn't see the dead body. "We got one."

"There're more?" Grace's voice went up an octave and broke. She hugged onto Kono tighter. "Are you going to get the others?"

Steve kneeled down. "We're going to get the others. Promise. Now, you need to go home with your mom."

She shook her head. "I don't wanna go home with Mom. I wanna go with Auntie Kono."

"Grace," Steve exhaled softly and looked up at Kono. "Auntie's gotta go do something first."

"I know," Grace said evenly. "I wanna go with her."

Steve raised a brow. Kono set her hand on Grace's head.

"I'll take her with me," she said.

"Okay," Steve said and stood up. "Come by my place afterwards."

"You're not going to the office?"

Steve surveyed the quiet cemetery and the dead man behind them. "I can work from home. Chin's coming over later, too. I got some hamburgers and hotdogs. It's kind of a crappy welcome back party for you."

"Oh," Kono huffed out a laugh. "It's so good to be home."

Steve gave her a sad smirk and walked over to the front gates of the cemetery where HPD and the ME had arrived. Kono told Grace to tell her mom their plans while she told Adam, and then led the young girl through the gates to her little red Cruze.

They started down through the jungle with near silence in the car. It was amazing Grace had held it together for this long. Kono hadn't seen a tear nor a wobbling lip in the last two days. Unfortunately, she knew from experience that when emotions were kept bottled up, they were bound to spill out sooner or later.

Apparently, it was sooner.

Grace wiped her face and pulled in a shaking breath.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, sweetie," Kono soothed, eyes darting from the road to her passenger.

More tears slipped down her cheeks. "I know. But I'm still scared."

Think, think, think. She inhaled steadily. "It's okay to be scared. I was starting to get worried when you didn't look scared. Started to think I needed to get lessons on being tough from you."

Grace chuckled wetly. "But you're way tough."

"Nah," Kono deflected. "Not tough like you."

"I'm trying to be tough, but I'm so scared the other bad guys might get my mom, or Charlie, or Uncle Steve or you or Uncle Chin or even Step Stan," she said almost all in one breath. She scrubbed at her eyes. "They already got Danno."

Kono's grip on the steering wheel turned white knuckled. It had been a rough few days. Her first days back on the island and instead of stepping back into a paradise, she had stepped into some kind of hell.

Once they were out of the trees, she made a left-hand turn at an intersection into a residential area. She made three more left-hand turns and came back to the same intersection, her eyes glued to her mirrors the whole time. Grace looked mildly confused at the circle they'd made.

"It's an old trick to see if someone's following you," Kono explained. There was no point in lying. The kid was growing up fast and was smart.

Grace looked at her wing mirror intently. "And no one is, right?"

"Right," she said.

She made the same turn at the intersection again, but continued straight on the street instead of turning left at the stop sign. The houses were decent sized here with neatly kept yards and sidewalks that sprawled all over the place, looping around ponds and playgrounds.

"Where are we?" Grace asked, peering out the window.

"We're going to see a friend," she said as she tilted her head and slowed down. The addresses were going up which meant she was heading in the right direction.

She spotted the correct address on the front door of a brick house with a few palm trees out front and grass on the verge of attracting the attention of the HOA. A red Jeep was parked in the cement driveway. She parked behind it.

"Okay, c'mon, Grace," she said and climbed out.

The temperatures weren't nearly as warm as they were in the summer, but even the cool breeze couldn't whisk away the sweat on her brow and chest. Being in all black clothing, being in pants, and wearing a vest underneath said black clothing was stifling. She couldn't wait to rip off the Kevlar when she got to Steve's place. For now, though, she'd leave it on.

She kept Grace between the front door and her, keeping her shielded from the street. How many mercenaries had been employed? Just the one? Or had there been an extra to pick up the slack if something happened to the first? Who had ordered the hit in the first place? Wo Fat? Rick Petersen? Kaitlin Pritchard? The Yakuza? Someone they knew? Someone they didn't? Any number of gun runners, thieves, murderers, psychopaths, smugglers, and traffickers that they had put away?

The list grew infinitely before her very eyes. They led very dangerous lives and had made a lot of enemies. Briefly, she was thankful that a lot of the bad guys they chased wound up dead.

Shaking the thoughts clear, she pushed the doorbell.

Grace bounced on the balls of her feet and fidgeted with the belt on her dress.

There was a thump and the sound of footsteps approaching. The door creaked open.

"Well," a smoky voice greeted. The door opened a little wider to reveal Mauna with her long copper hair cascading over her shoulders for a change. "You either caught him or McGarrett was wrong."

"He's out of the picture, but it was bigger than we thought," Kono said, trying not to notice how Grace had deflated.

Mauna hummed in question and held the door open for them. They stepped inside the well air conditioned house while the off-duty doctor shut and locked the door. She gestured for them to follow her with a flick of her fingers.

"You guys want coffee? Or tea?" she offered, though the offer was gruff. Kono couldn't tell if it was just her natural tone or the revelation things weren't quite over. "Or booze?"

"No thanks, I'm good," Kono said. She stood by the bar counter while Grace hopped up onto a stool.

"Suit yourself," Mauna leaned against the island counter with a mug in her hands. Her warm eyes landed on Grace. "You sure you don't want anything, kid? I've got malasadas."

Grace's eyes lit up and Mauna took that as a yes. She dug one out of the box sitting next to the sink and set it on a sheet of paper towel.

"Thank you," Grace said and took a bite.

"Welcome, Grace," Mauna's lips turned upward in a small grin before it disappeared just as quickly as she turned her attention to Kono. "Now, what's this about it being bigger than you thought? Does that mean–"

"Grace?"

Footsteps thumped down the stairs. Grace practically fell off the barstool and sprinted across the tile floor.

"Danno!"

* * *

 **Come on guys, did you _really_ think I would kill Danny off for real? You _know_ me better!**

 **Next week on "Dragons", Mauna questions Kono about what's going on. Danny questions Kono about what's going on. Grace questions Mauna about the photos on the shelf. Danny and Kono question Mauna about her personal life. There're a lot of questions.**

 **Thank you all for your continued support with reading, reviewing, faving, and following! I think I may have actually lost a follower last week. It actually cracks me up a little bit. I'm sorry for giving you such a scare! XD**


	90. Fact 77

**Who? What? When? Where? And why?**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #77: Dragons have been known to not go gentle into that good night. They'd much rather rage, rage against the dying of the light.**

 **Season: Early-mid Season 4**

Grace had pretty much glued herself to her very much alive father. Kono hugged him tight, as well, breathing in his scent and just feeling him breathe in her arms. There was a moment in the ER when she had thought they had actually lost him, but here he was.

"Hmph," Mauna gave a short chuckle. "It's like the end of a Hallmark movie."

Danny ignored her as he stepped back from Kono and set his hand on her shoulder instead. "I'm sorry you came home to this absolutely insane situation."

Kono shrugged. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

"How's Rachel? And Charlie?" he asked, smoothing Grace's hair with his other hand.

"Physically unhurt. Rachel might kill you when she finds out it was all one big play to draw the shooter out," Kono said.

Danny's hand fluttered away from her shoulder to his face so he could massage his forehead. She could tell that wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to having with his ex-wife.

"Well, now that this happy little reunion has happened, care to fill me in on how much longer I'm going to have a house guest?" Mauna questioned.

"Trust me, you're no peach to live with, either," Danny shot back.

Mauna arched a brow and wandered away from the kitchen toward the living room where a couch and two chairs were sat around a coffee table on top of an earth toned area rug. She sat on one of the chairs and kicked her bare feet up on the steel and glass coffee table.

Kono followed her, sitting in the other chair while Danny sat on the couch with Grace still tucked under his arm. He was in simple jeans and an old t-shirt, and it looked like he hadn't shaved this morning. The worry lines etched on his face said it all.

"Everyone else is okay, right? No one got winged or clipped or anything else, right?" he asked.

Kono shook her head. "Everyone's fine. The guy ran when Steve pulled his gun, and when I tried to take him down…."

Danny nodded in understanding. "So that's it, huh? There went our only lead?"

"Until we can identify him. But, we did find out that it was a hired hit," she said.

"From who? Who hired him?" he asked, one hand waving around in the air.

"I'm assuming the list of people who want you dead is a long one," Mauna grunted into her mug. She set it on the side table between the chairs and ran her fingers through her hair. "You know, I'm not even one hundred percent sure what's going on. Besides a call from McGarrett, this has been a mystery to me."

"You've had Danny staying with you for two days. Why didn't you ask him?" Kono questioned.

"I was at work yesterday and at a funeral today," she said.

Kono looked between Danny and Mauna, wondering exactly what had transpired in the two days he'd been living in her house. She held up her hands. "I was brought into the loop after you were."

"Last week, anonymous letters started showing up to the office," Danny explained. He glanced down at Grace and her openly curious expression. "They weren't very nice. They, uh, had a certain threatening nature about them, and we couldn't figure out where they were coming from."

She'd heard this much. Chin had given her the unedited version in a quick rundown on their way to the ER. Letters promising to kill Danny and then his family had started to appear, but only four of them. Two the first day, one the second day, one the third day, and then on the fourth day, there was no letter. Only a sniper.

"And McGarrett figured if you were dead, then it would draw the shooter out," Mauna filled in.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually, it was my idea this time. No, no, don't give me that look! This kind of crazy plan coming from me is a once in a blue moon thing."

"Steve's rubbed off on you over the years," Kono laughed.

"That's a horrifying thought," Danny commented. He gestured to Mauna. "Anyway, we figured he was going to take a shot at me eventually, so I was wearing a vest under my shirt 24/7, which is extremely uncomfortable, and we had it set up with you to help fake my death."

Mauna nodded. "Except you didn't expect him to use a Dragon Slayer round."

"Wait, Danno, did you actually get hit?" Grace piped up, looking up at her father in concern. "Uncle Steve told me you were fine."

"It was a little nick, Monkey, it's okay," Danny kissed the top of her head.

Mauna leaned over to Kono and whispered, "Grazed him on the left side of the abdomen. Bled heavy, but there was minimal damage. A smidge over and we might've had an actual problem."

Grace clung tighter to Danny, apparently having caught snippets of the conversation. "I don't wanna leave you."

Danny stroked her hair lovingly. "I know, Monkey, I know. But I'm sure your mom's worried about you, and it won't be for much longer, okay? Hmm?"

Danny looked at Kono in a silent question. Until they knew who the mercenary was and who had taken the hit out on him, it would be safer for him to remain 'dead'. And despite how much he would rather keep Grace right by his side, any sudden disappearance of team members or his family would raise suspicions if they were still being watched.

"What if the bad guys find you? Are you gonna keep her safe, too?" Grace asked, tilting her head toward Mauna.

Mauna snorted. She pointed at the shelves on the wall. "You know how your uncle's been in some scary places and how he can take care of himself?"

Grace nodded.

"I've been in some scary places, too. Go take a look at those photos," she said.

When she got up to obediently go look at the pictures on the shelves, Mauna leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. "Okay. So how long is he gonna have to stay here?"

"What? Worried the neighbors might start to talk?" Danny asked.

"They're used to seeing two people in the house," Mauna countered.

Kono looked at her barren fingers. Now that she thought about, she knew very little about this doctor that knew an uncomfortable amount about them. She wasn't even sure if she was married. "Husband? Boyfriend?"

Mauna shook her head.

"Girlfriend?"

"Housemate," Mauna said. "Not every relationship revolves around sex. But, he is coming back from the Big Island in two days."

"I thought I was in the guest room?" Danny pointed his thumb at the door around the bend here on the ground floor.

"You are."

"Then why the urgency to get me out of the house before your housemate returns?" Danny questioned.

"Because I can't handle two men living in my house at the same time," Mauna's lips pressed in a firm line and her eyebrows shot up. It was almost comical.

"We're going to get this all figured out before then," Kono said. "Hopefully."

Mauna scrubbed her hands over her face. "If not, I may move out and leave the two blabbermouths to themselves."

"Hey, I don't talk to you that much," Danny objected.

"I beg to differ. And you leave the TV on all night and my bedroom's right above the guest room," Mauna said. She gave Kono a severe look. "You better get this figured out soon or I'm going to kill him for real."

"You've gone a lot of places," Grace said.

The three adults broke up their hushed conversation.

"But, unlike Steve, she has pictures to show for it," Danny said as he stood up with a small wince. He joined Grace at the shelves on the beige colored wall. "Maybe you'll get more than a one word answer if _you_ ask her about them, because she won't tell _me_ anything more than a country."

Mauna sighed deeply, her eyes darting to Kono momentarily. She had to admit, Danny was a bit of an acquired taste, and with the added stress of the current situation, she could only imagine how prickly the doctor and the detective had been with each other over the last few days. His voice was music to her ears, though. She'd missed him a lot while she'd been gone.

Grace picked up a framed picture and brought it over to Mauna. "You're actually smiling in this one."

Mauna rolled her eyes while Kono and Danny snickered.

"Where were you? Who are all those kids? And that guy?" Grace asked. She perched on the arm of the chair, holding the frame out to the doctor.

"Way deep in the Amazon," Mauna said.

Kono smirked. She'd be darned if the doctor didn't have a soft spot for the eleven year old.

"I was helping a local tribe. Some of these kids were sick when I got there, but they got better," she said, pointing out the children. One of the smaller ones was cradled in her arms and another taller one stood behind her. "They formed an attachment to me for some reason. I don't know why. I'm kind of prickly."

"So are roses," Grace said.

Mauna glanced around her at Danny. "I like this kid."

"Who's the guy?" Grace asked, pointing to the man in the picture with one kid on his knee and another with her arms wrapped around his neck. He had a mischievous grin on, like he had been the one to crack the joke that had Mauna smiling.

"That's Jarod," Mauna said.

"Was he a doctor, too?"

"Sometimes," she mumbled, then shook her head and spoke louder. "He's a good man."

"Is he your housemate?" Danny asked, not missing the subtle note of fondness in her voice.

Mauna shook her head. "I have no clue where he is now, and trust me, my housemate does not have that kind of build. He's more…noodle like."

Kono pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. "We've gotta go, Grace. We're going over to Uncle Steve's for dinner and then I'll take you home, okay?"

Grace sighed and slid off the armrest reluctantly. She hugged her father one more time and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Danno."

"Love you more, Monkey," he said.

Grace snatched the rest of her malasada off the countertop as Mauna led them to the front door. She flipped the deadbolt and unlocked the handle, cracking it open and glancing around the front yard and street. She pushed it the rest of the way open, but not far enough to see Danny hanging back out of sight in the living room.

"Don't worry, brah. We'll resurrect you here soon," Kono said before slipping out the door with Grace.

Mauna shut the door and relocked both locks. She turned on her heel, catching sight of Danny holding the picture Grace had been holding as she walked into the kitchen.

"When was this taken?" he asked.

Mauna braced her hands by the sink and looked over the bar counter at him. "1998."

His eyebrows almost disappeared into his hair. "You look the same as you do now."

"Like I told your partner," she said. "I moisturize. Now, frankly, I don't feel like cooking, so I'm ordering pizza for dinner."

"No pineapple," Danny said and put the frame back where it belonged.

Mauna dialed the closest pizza place's number. She brought the phone up to her ear and held Danny's eyes across the living room. "Yeah, I'd like to order one family sized supreme pizza. Delivery, please."

Danny let out a small breath as she rattled off her address.

"Oh, and do me a favor," she said before hanging up. "Put extra pineapple on it."

* * *

 **Danny would not be wrong if he accused Mauna of being an aggravator.**

 **On January 1st (sorry, guys, I'm taking next week off) on "Dragons", news of Danny's 'death' spread a little farther than they originally intended and a bit of his past resurfaces.**

 **Bonus points to anyone who caught a small reference to another show I threw in there. ;)**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! And remember, no new chapter next week. Guess you'll have to wait until next year...ehehehe.**


	91. Fact 78

**Welcome to the new year!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for continuing to be my beta reader despite my occasional rambling!**

* * *

 **Fact #78: Even creatures of smoke and fire get burned in more ways than one.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

Now more than ever in his life he could understand why animals kept in too small of enclosures often went insane and attacked their handlers. Or died like a carnival goldfish kept in a tiny bowl. A few days, is what Steve had said. A few days at the doctor's house and then he could get back to normal.

A week had passed.

It had been a week since he'd seen or even talked to Grace. He had sporadic, secretive conversations with Steve that were worthy of making it into a spy movie with how convoluted some of their methods of communication had become. What he had gathered from those short dialogues between them was that they had no paper trail to speak of linking the sniper, one Derrick Grady, back to anyone. Besides a sizable deposit that led to a dud account, they had nothing. Nada. Zip.

Danny finger combed his hair back in frustration. Sitting on Mauna's couch downstairs with a good old pad of yellow notebook paper and a pencil, the minutes had turned into hours of the afternoon on the eighth day of what he had decided to call his house arrest.

"Your ma would be real proud of you, you dumb schmuck," he muttered to himself, tapping the eraser against his lips as he scanned the list of names.

Since he had so much free time on his hands and had quickly tired of watching sports on the TV in the guest bedroom, he started writing down names of people who would want him dead. To his growing horror, and somewhat to his amusement born from a gallows sense of humor, the list had started to sprawl the more he worked on it. It went from cases from when he was a young beat cop in Jersey clear to his most recent one here in Hawaii. Gradually, he'd crossed out names of people who were dead or who wouldn't go after his family or who weren't smart enough to leave no trace of hiring a mercenary.

He set the yellow pad down as a red Jeep pulled in the concrete driveway parallel to the house. A love/hate relationship had blossomed between him and the doctor during the last week. She was prickly and aggravating and did things like order extra pineapple on the pizza just to make him suffer, and he was glad when she would was gone all day on a shift. He didn't know how her housemate, who she had managed to convince to stay on the Big Island longer, handled her.

On the other hand, sitting all alone in a house that wasn't his own was no fun, either. And he had been alone since yesterday afternoon.

A car door slammed. A moment later the wooden gate on the privacy fence around the backyard swung open and closed with a rattle. In contrast, the side door of the house opened silently.

Danny watched the tall woman over his shoulder as she kicked off her shoes and unceremoniously dropped her backpack on a kitchen stool. She didn't even acknowledge him.

"What? You don't even greet me anymore?" he asked.

She jolted and slapped the cupboard door closed. A long drawn out sigh blew out of her nose as she reopened the cupboard and reached up into it. "Forgot you were here."

"Wow. Must've been a hell of a day, huh?" he said.

His brows furrowed as she pulled a glass bottle out of the cupboard. The golden label and red creature on the front of it was easily recognizable. For something that supposedly tasted like heaven and burned like hell, Mauna was able to down a startling amount in the first swig.

Danny stood up from the couch and slowly approached the bar counter separating the living room from the kitchen. "I must've hit the nail on the head with how your day went by how fast you're draining that Fireball. Tell me something, just because I feel like I need to know if you're going to get drunk, are you an angry drunk or a weepy drunk?"

Mauna set the bottle down with a clank and glared at him. "Neither. I don't get drunk."

"For someone who doesn't get drunk, you've consumed a lot of cheap whiskey, babe," he pointed a finger at the bit of amber liquid remaining in the glass. It hadn't been full when she'd pulled it out, but it hadn't been that empty.

"I like the brief burning sensation," she snapped. She grabbed the bottle and slid out of the kitchen toward the stairs.

Danny intercepted her. "Hey, hey. I know you can put Steve to shame with your whole stoic nature where no one ever sees you crumble, but that's not good for the soul. Trust me. What's wrong?"

"Oh, he's a therapist, now," she grunted and skirted around him.

He gripped the banister and waited until she was half-way up. "This is why you don't have any friends. You're very emotionally closed off and it's like pulling teeth trying to get you to talk about anything personal."

"Well some of us don't wear our hearts on our sleeves," she said, turning mid-step to look down at him. "Over the last few days I've learned so much about you, I could write your biography."

"Shut up," he growled, hands leaving the banister to gesture around wildly. "I've told you tidbits about my life like a _normal_ person. I'm not going around blabbing about my innermost thoughts and feelings and deepest, darkest secrets, and I'm not asking you to do that! All I asked is how your day went!"

For a second, Danny thought he was going to have to dodge a hefty Fireball bottle, but the longer he held the doctor's dark gaze, the more the fight seemed to seep out of her. Her tense shoulders drooped, the angry arch of her eyebrows softened, and her rigid spine relaxed.

She exhaled heavily and tore her eyes from his, instead staring at the beige carpet on the stairs. "House fire. Five patients were brought in last night. Mother, her sister, and three kids."

Danny's own taut posture started to slouch at the low and croaking quality of her voice.

"Declared a time of death on a four year old and a ten year old last night, and one on a twenty-three year old early this morning," she said. She turned and took another step up the stairs.

"Mauna, wait–"

"Danny," she cut him off, but didn't turn to look at him again. "Just leave me alone. Please."

Danny let her go.

* * *

Steve scrubbed a hand through his hair and sat back in the swivel chair parked at his desk. With the Governor being in on their faking of Danny's death, he had granted them time to find a lead and solve this thing. As days turned into a week, almost two weeks if he counted when the threatening letters actually showed up, it only got more frustrating when they repeatedly came up with nothing. Soon the Governor would want them to get back to handling other cases.

Chin poked his head in the door. "Kono and I just got back from the correctional facility."

He straightened and planted his elbows on his desk. "Find out anything?"

Chin walked the rest of the way in. He shook his head. "We checked out Kaleo. He's got all his aggression still redirected at me. I don't think he had anything to do with it."

"How's Kono doing with checking into Rick Petersen?" he asked.

"She's getting it done," Chin said. He sat in one of the chairs across from him. "But, after he used what little finances he had to come to Oahu last time he came after Danny, I don't think he would be able to sink half a million into hiring a sniper."

Therein lay their conundrum. They knew people that would go after Danny and his family, they knew people with enough money to do so, but the area where those two groups overlapped was a slim one. And as of this far, everyone in that overlapping section had reasonable doubt. Everyone they had access to, at least.

"Wo Fat," Steve muttered. It wasn't for the first time, either.

"Steve," Chin chided evenly. It wasn't for the first time he had brought up the fallacies of this idea, either. "He's in isolation. No access to the outside world. You vetted all the guards on his cell. Three times."

He opened his mouth to argue.

"Do you really think he would hire someone to intimidate Danny like that before killing him?" Chin asked. When Steve didn't respond, he continued. "It's not his style, brah. He likes professionals. This guy was good, but not a professional."

He deflated. Once again, he was left with no solid leads.

"I miss having him around," he murmured almost too quietly to hear, casting a glance at the empty office on the other side of the bullpen as he did.

"Me too," Chin quietly concurred. He stood up. "I'll keep working on it. Something's going to come up. They'll either try to hire someone again to finish the job or come after one of us next."

Truth be told, Steve preferred the latter. His gut had been twisted the entire time Grace had been in danger at the cemetery. He, Chin, Kono, and Catherine were all trained to handle themselves. He hoped they would be next on the roster, preferably himself first, and that their unsub would slip up this time. All they needed was a small digital thread for the cousins to tug on to unravel this whole heinous tapestry.

He would get his best friend back by his side soon. That was the light at the end of this dark tunnel.

Speaking of, he should probably get in contact and let him know who they had scratched off their list of suspects. He had a feeling Danny had started a running list just so he could take part in the investigation in anyway he could.

He glanced up as Catherine rapped her knuckles on his glass door. "Um, someone's here to see you."

He hadn't even heard anyone come into the offices. Stretching as he stood, he skirted around his desk and pushed through the door. The hairs prickled on the back of his neck. Something felt off.

"Who are you?" he asked gruffly, eyes dancing around the bullpen. The cousins were on high alert and edging out of their respective offices while Catherine stood to his right, hand on her holstered gun.

No one had escorted the woman up, that's what felt off. Usually a security guard had to escort strangers up to the second floor. She was alone.

"Are you Steven McGarrett?" she asked, taking a step closer to him so they were barely two feet apart.

"Yes. Who–"

Her left fist snapped out and cracked across his jaw. He stumbled back while his teammates pulled their weapons free and trained them on her.

"I'm Danny Williams' old partner."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Danny's old partner raises hell over his 'death'.**

 **Pfft, no one got my Pretender reference in the last chapter.**

 **Coming up (hopefully) this year in this series: more dragons (duh), backstories, returning villains, crossovers (I promise I'll actually get some done this year), and maybe even possibly an AU within an AU?**

 **As always guys, feel free to leave prompts, questions, things you want to see happen, and any ideas you have. Thank you all for your continued support as we go into this new year! Mahalo.**


	92. Fact 79

**Perhaps 'raises hell' was a bit much. Hey, guess what? I'm snowed in and am still fighting a cough! Yay!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for persevering with my ramblings about moonshine, sheriffs, and unnecessarily complicated thoughts on simple plots.**

* * *

 **Fact #79: Acquiring implements for taking down dragons requires you to know a guy. Or to know a guy who knows a guy.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

Steve made a mental note to be wary of people from New Jersey and their hooks. Massaging the right side of his jaw where the woman's fist had nailed him, he eyed her and then his team as they stood tensely in the bullpen.

"How'd you hear about Danny?" he questioned.

They'd tried to limit the number of people in the loop that knew it had been a faked death. The Five-0 team knew alongside the Governor, Mauna, two nurses she trusted, Grace, Max since he had to release a phony death report, and Eric, Eddie, and Clara back in Newark so as not to give them a heart attack if they heard about it.

They'd taken great pains in controlling the story on the media. They wanted their unsub to think they had succeeded in killing Danny without being too blatant. The current story was that a cop had been killed, no names released. It wouldn't take long for a determined reporter to figure out who the cop was, and in the worst case scenario, figure out it had been a fake death before they discovered the mastermind behind the hit.

"How'd you hear?" he asked again.

"Crime blogger from Oahu," she said coolly.

He grunted. They had cracked down and controlled _organized_ media outlets. Individuals were another story. Exhaling through his nose harshly, he looked at the woman.

Sitting in a rolling chair, surrounded by spooked officers, she was rubbing her knuckles while glaring at him. Around Danny's height, perhaps a smidge taller, she had a solid and lithe build currently clothed in a teal long-sleeved collared shirt and black jeans. Worry lines put her around his age.

"What did the blog say?" Catherine asked with a sideways glance at Steve's face.

"There was a shot fired outside the Iolani Palace a week ago. EMTs, cops, Five-0, and news hounds flooded the scene with no information given out," she said evenly, as if she was reading it off a cue card. "No name released. No further story coverage online, no chase scenes on the five o'clock news, no shootouts. The blogger speculated it might have been a Five-0 member. Then, I couldn't get a hold of Danny by phone or email."

"And so you assumed–"

"Got a hold of Rachel," she said.

Steve nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't looking forward to revealing Danny was alive to her. She had been a mess since she'd heard about the sniper. "You talked to Rachel?"

The woman stood up slowly. Now that he wasn't surprised by her appearance, he noted the limp in her stride as she stepped toward him. "Yes. And if it weren't for the metal detectors downstairs, I had half a mind to bring my gun in to shoot you for using Rachel and Grace as bait to lure your unsub out."

The threat, though exaggerated it may have been, sent a palpable energy through the room. Catherine's hand settled on her gun again.

"At least tell me your famed insane plan worked," she said.

He didn't like being sent off-kilter on his own turf, and he especially didn't like a surprise attack being launched on his own turf. After the chilling letters, the close call with the sniper, the funeral, the unfruitful search afterward, an agitated Danny and an equally agitated doctor breathing down his neck, and now a woman he didn't know asking for facts about all of it, he dug his heels in.

"Honestly, ma'am, I don't know you or your relation to Danny, so until I can verify you are who you say you are and why you're here, I'm not telling you anything about an ongoing investigation," he said through clenched teeth.

The woman smoothed a hand over her braided gray-brown hair. "Ongoing. Means your plan didn't work as well as you thought it was going to."

She blew a long, weary sigh out. With the initial fire of her introduction gone, she just looked tired. Her clothes were rumpled, her hair tugging loose of its braid, hands shaking, face shadowed, and dark circles framed her gray eyes.

Steve reached out and set a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Danny was my friend, too. What's your name?"

The woman looked up at him, the exhausted, vulnerable look being replaced by a calm and level expression. The corner of her mouth twitched. "Danny never mentioned his partners after Grace, did he?"

He shook his head. The general vibe of the room started to relax as the perceived threat diminished. This was a friend in mourning, not a criminal making a move at them. At least, not an obvious criminal.

"Don't blame him. He had a rough patch of them after that," she said. She held up a hand. "Mags. Former Newark Detective."

He grasped her hand with a firm shake. A small smirk worked its way onto his face at getting to meet a part of his partner's past. "Why'd you come all the way to Oahu? To hit me?"

She dropped her hand, letting it settle on her hip, and gave him a dead serious stare. "Yes."

* * *

Chin met Steve by the door of his office. Mags was sitting inside on the couch, her head swiveling this way and that as she intently examined the plaques on the walls.

"She is who she says she is," Chin said. He held out a report which Steve quickly flipped through. "Her flight landed here two hours ago."

Steve glanced over his shoulder at her and then back at the sheaf of papers in his hands. "Just because she really was his partner doesn't mean she's not involved. Petersen was his training officer and look how that turned out."

"She doesn't have a reason to kill him and his family," Chin said quietly. "Her record and her bank accounts are clean."

He scrubbed a hand over his face. He was being paranoid, he knew that. And, now that she was here, they had a clearer window into Danny's past and any criminals that may have had a history with him.

"Okay," he said. He pushed through the door into his office.

Mags looked up at him. "Finally decide I'm not hitman?"

"You checked out."

"Imagine that."

Easing down onto the corner of his desk, he set the file aside and folded his arms over his chest. "Do you know of anyone who would do this?"

She huffed out a laugh. "Ask me a more specific question."

"Look, we've been going over cases for the last week, from Danny's time here with Five-0 and HPD, and from his time in Newark. We need to narrow down the suspect pool," he said.

Mags scooted to the edge of the couch, elbows on her knees with her fingers steepled out in front of her. "We were partners for five years with an eighty-six percent closure rate. Do the math. There're a lot of people who would love to put a bullet in me and Danny."

She had a point. Between here and there, there was a whole slew of potential suspects, that of which they had been slogging through, but there may have been ones not in the files.

"It was a sniper," he said. "Said he'd been paid to take out Danny and his family. He sent threatening letters before…."

"Before he shot my partner? Your partner?" she snapped as she sprung to her feet. "Why the hell didn't you put him in a safe house? Or under some form of protection?"

"I tried," Steve grumbled. "You were his partner, who know how he is."

"Stubborn idiot," she massaged her forehead fiercely and patted her own cheek as if to slap herself out of her thoughts. "How?"

"The doc said it nicked the descending aorta," he sighed. "He bled out."

Mags stilled and stared at the floor. Her brows knitted together. "What caliber?"

"It was a .308 Dragon Slayer round."

"Dragon Slayer?" she lifted her head with a frown.

Danny was notoriously secretive about his dragon nature, especially about his type. It had taken two years for Steve to find out he was a Cliff, and it was under duress. Did Mags know her ex-partner was a dragon? Did she know he was a Cliff? They had been partners for five years versus his three and a half years. It was likely she knew, however, he wouldn't dare reveal anything about his partner just in case.

"No kill like overkill," he said.

"Track the rounds," she said.

"What?"

"You can't buy Dragon Slayer rounds from your local redneck. They're armor piercing. Special order. Black market," she explained, though she didn't need to because he already knew that. Why he hadn't thought to track them down was beyond him. "You have to know a guy who knows a guy."

He cracked a smirk. "We know a guy."

* * *

 _Brzzt. Brzzt._

A hand reached out blindly from the comforter on top of the bed. Long fingers grasped the phone and pulled it under the covers. Cursing as the screen blinded her, Mauna read the text with bleary eyes. It was from an unknown number, but the content of the text suspiciously sounded like McGarrett.

She squinted at the little numbers at the top of the phone. It was almost midnight.

"These guys are going to be the death of me," she muttered and flung the comforter off.

The house was dark and silent. Silent except for the low sound of the TV downstairs. Rubbing the gunk from her eyes as she went down the stairs, she decided that people were no longer allowed to use her place as a safe house. And she was definitely not going to be the go-between for secret message passing. McGarrett was paranoid. What were the chances someone was monitoring his phone?

She walked into the guest bedroom and flicked on the overhead light.

"I think I just heard light," the growl came from the mountain of blankets on the bed.

"Rise and shine, 007 wants to talk to you," she chucked the phone at an indiscernible lump in the blankets.

There was a grunt before two arms pushed the blankets away and a ruffled Danny popped up with a look that could peel paint. He glanced at the phone, scowled, and called the unknown number.

" _McGarrett."_

"This had better be the best news in the world or I'm going to kill you," he said.

" _Glad to hear from you too, bud. We think we know who ordered the hit on you."_

Mauna made a small fist pump of victory. "About time."

"Thanks, babe, I've really enjoyed your company, too," Danny waved her off. "Please tell me I can come back to the land of the living."

" _We tracked the Dragon Slayer rounds. Kamekona knew of a guy who was rumored to run in those circles. When we brought him in he said he'd never heard of or seen Derrick Grady."_

"Well, that's great, Steven," he flipped a hand out in irritation.

" _Hold on. Two weeks ago a long time client asked him to make a delivery to a storage unit. He dropped off ten Dragon Slayer rounds at the unit. We have Grady on camera going into that unit a day later."_

"Normally, I love a dramatic build up to the identity of our bad guys, but it's midnight, I'm tired, I want to go home, I want to see my kid again," he said. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and set the phone on the nightstand.

" _Sorry, man. The name on the storage unit was bogus, but Chin and Kono are unraveling it as we speak."_

"Really? That's what you called to tell me? You couldn't have waited until you actually had a name?" he questioned.

" _That's not the best part. The arms dealer knew Five-0's faces. He'd been told to watch out for us."_

"Don't tell me you sent in some poor HPD officer and got them shot."

A different voice responded. " _Even better. They sent in a former detective with a limp."_

Danny swiped a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening in surprise. "Mags? Babe, is that you?"

" _Hey, next time I show up to do some avenging, make sure you're dead for real first, okay?"_

" _She approached the arms dealer as a buyer. I've gotta tell you, partner, she's got a mean left hook."_

He laughed a thin, manic giggle. "This is insane. How'd you–"

" _Wait. Chin, what did you say?"_

There was a muffled conversation in the background that he couldn't quite make out. Maybe he was still sleeping. Them being this close to finding out who had orchestrated the whole thing and his former partner being here on the island? It had to be a dream.

"Steve?"

" _We've got a name."_

* * *

 **I'm so evil. Mwahahaha!**

 **Next week on "Dragons", the team comes face to face with a familiar face that brings with it a certain horror.**

 **I've got some good stuff brewing for you guys here. The muse fairy dropped by on a lazy day while I was snowed in and bonked me on the head. Hopefully you guys will enjoy! And, as always, feel free to suggest things or ask questions. ;)**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	93. Fact 80

**Here it is. Drum roll please.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #80: Vengeful ghosts are not to be feared. It is far, far worse when the vengeful soul is alive.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

Far too often it seemed the justice system didn't accurately dole out the punishment for the crimes committed. Rapists went free, the wealthy got a slap on the wrist, innocents went to prison, minor felons were sentenced to many more years than called for because of skin color, ethnicity, or other factors. It was easy to lose faith in the system when that happened.

Kono knew from first hand experience that it would be too easy to cross the line between cop and executioner, that the thoughts of exacting justice with her own hand came far too easy, and that's why she had performed the interrogation with this guy a year ago, not Steve. For all his good qualities, her boss harbored a blurrier line than the rest of them.

 _Money's good. The buyers got squeamish. They're just dragons._

She shook her head. This time, she wasn't alone in an interrogation room with heartless eyes and his cold voice. No, this time Steve was there exuding a predatory aura that would send any prey animal into hiding. Who knew where his already blurry line was. Mags had bulled her way in, as well, though she had a far calmer and cooler atmosphere about her, like ice covering a black lake in the dead of winter.

A buzzer sounded and a door opposite of the three of them opened. A guard led the prisoner in, secured him to the metal table, and then left.

Jeffrey Mills. Former second in command of the dragon breeding operation.

"What is it now, Five-0?" he questioned.

"How's prison life treating you?" Steve asked, sliding into the chair on the other side of the table.

Kono was caught off guard by the easy tone of her boss' voice, and apparently Jeffrey was as well. He squinted suspiciously before leaning back as far as his cuffed wrists would let him.

"Fair enough," Jeffrey answered. A hint of his cocky, callous nature seeped back into his voice and face. "Better than you probably wish it was. You here with another deal? More information for better arrangements? Early parole?"

"Parole?" Kono scoffed. "You're going to be here so long your bones won't be able to leave until the island falls back into the ocean."

Jeffrey shrugged. "The Governor likes your team, Commander. I'm sure you could pull some strings."

"The only string that would get pulled around here is a noose around your neck," Mags quipped from where she had limped around behind Jeffrey. Her eyes met Kono's. "I can see why they enjoyed a hanging back in the day if this was the kind of guy they hanged."

Jeffrey kept his gaze directed at Steve. "Who's this, Commander? New recruit for your merry band?"

"You know how it goes, Mills. A few extra hands help take down operations like yours," Steve said. A grim smirk cracked his lips. "Like the operation in Florida?"

Kono savored the flash of frustration in Jeffrey's face. She set her hands on her hips. "Didn't think they'd find that little offshoot there north of Miami, did you?"

"Honolulu, Portland, San Francisco, Panama City, Kingston, Houston, New Orleans, Miami, Hampton, New York," Steve listed slowly. "Since last year, between the Coast Guard, the Dragon's Rights division of the FBI, and local police forces, there have been over two hundred arrests, one shut down of the small mainland breeding site in Florida, and seven rescues of dragons."

"Not to mention all the countless other dragons that have been proactively saved by tearing your operation to shreds," Kono said.

"So you've come to gloat," Jeffrey surmised. A wicked gleam appeared in his eye. "Where is the rest of your team, anyway? I would've thought that the detective would've wanted to be here to rub it in."

The way he said 'detective' was as if the word was bitter and stung his tongue.

"He sends his regards," Steve said.

"I see," Jeffrey nodded sagely. He cocked his head to the side. "It's a little difficult to send regards from beyond the grave, isn't it?"

In an explosion of movement, Steve stood up from the chair and slammed his hands on the table with a ringing slap that made Kono's own hands tingle and sting. The predator was back and in full control. This time, Chin wasn't going to throw anyone out if one of them attempted to maul the prisoner.

"What do you know about it?" Steve growled. He got in Jeffrey's face. It was unnerving how Jeffrey made no attempt to pull away. "Was it you? Revenge for taking down your operation and throwing your god forsaken hide in prison?"

"Because I can obviously be inside the prison and be on the outside, as well," Jeffrey retorted evenly. "There are cameras that can confirm I was here. There are guards that can confirm I was here. As much as I wanted to end his life personally, I couldn't."

A tense silence lingered in the air like static electricity as neither man moved or spoke. The hairs on Kono's arms rose, awaiting the lightning strike whenever it may come.

"He's right," Mags broke in. "He couldn't have personally done it. But I've got something to tell you, Jeff, in–"

"It's Jeffrey," the man grumbled, still holding Steve's attention fully.

"Don't interrupt me. As I was saying, _Jeff_ , in all my years as a detective, I've never seen someone unravel a fake bank account as fast as that tall drink of water over there and her cousin," Mags said with a loose gesture at Kono, even though with her standing behind Jeffrey the action was useless.

"And let me guess, you went to all that work and wound up at a dead end," Jeffrey's dark eyes slid over to Kono. "If I were going to hypothetically hire a mercenary, there would be nothing to trace back to me. But that's just me."

Steve straightened from his threatening hunched position over the table. "You're a smug bastard, you know that?"

"It's not unearned," Jeffrey said.

Mags exhaled noisily. "I smell bull. You know why?"

"Enlighten me."

"You know why, McGarrett?" Mags asked.

"Because he's not as smart as he thinks he is," Steve said. His arms crossed over his chest and he slunk around the table toward Jeffrey, perching on the edge next to him. "Your first mistake was hiring Derrick Grady."

"Grade A amateur," Kono said.

"From what I hear, he got the job done for whoever hired him," Jeffrey said.

"And it'll be his last job. He's currently chilling in the morgue," she added. "Telling us he was going after Danny's family was a stupid move."

She caught a flicker of an eyeroll. It seemed he was beginning to understand he'd made an error in hiring a hitman with a dramatic flair. Without those letters to serve as a warning, he may have very well done more than nick Danny and scare his family.

"I suppose dead men tell no tales," Jeffrey sighed and looked around the interrogation room. "What do you want from me? A list of people who would go after the detective? A list of hitmen? Of psychopaths? You want me to inform on the other prisoners?"

"No, you were right earlier," Mags said. "We came here to gloat."

"Yes, I get the gist. Five-0 has defeated the big, bad villain. What do you want, a parade?" Jeffrey grumbled, finally slumping back in his chair. "I think we're done here. Guard!"

Steve invaded his personal space again. "We couldn't trace the deposit in Grady's bank account. But we could trace who rented the storage unit where he picked up the Dragon Slayer rounds."

Jeffrey grew a shade paler. Steve took that as a sign to grab him by his orange jumpsuit and rattle him.

"You ordered the hit on my partner! You hired a sniper to shoot him and his family!" Steve roared, and Kono was sure if Jeffrey wasn't latched to the table, he would've been sent flying across the room.

"And what are you going to do about it, Commander?" Jeffrey yelled, showing more facial expression and aggression than he had ever displayed in their presence before. "Throw me in prison? I'm already here! Because of that detective, everything I worked for is null and void, and as your fine young officer said, I'm never getting out of here."

"Prison is the least of your problems," Steve snarled.

"What are you going to do? Kill me? Beat me to a pulp? The guards may have given you some space in here with me, but they won't let it get that far," Jeffrey spat. His lip curled and his eyes narrowed.

Every muscle trembled in Steve's body. His knuckles were white and he looked so badly like he wanted to snap the man in half. Kono was prepared to step forward to stop him from doing something close to that, but she didn't need to. Steve released him and stepped back.

Jeffrey rolled his shoulders. "You know how they treat cop killers in prison? Like kings. I may not be running a lucrative operation anymore, but I'm still running things."

It was true, especially if he told them which cop he'd taken out. To take out a member of Five-0 was nigh impossible, and if someone pulled it off, it would earn him bragging rights amongst a crowd of criminals put away by the team. Justice wasn't fair in this case. He was in a place with three square meals, a bed, and a gym membership instead of a damp, dark hole like he should have been.

"You couldn't let it go, could you?" Steve asked quietly.

"No." The buzzer sounded. Jeffrey grinned slimily. "He's dead. I win."

Jeffrey turned to the guard that walked through the door. This time, all the color drained out of his face. Every. Last. Drop.

"No. No. That's not - that's not possible."

It wasn't a guard.

"What? Scared of ghosts?"

Danny waved a hand around as the door shut behind Chin. The Five-0 team ringed around Jeffrey. Now it was a pack of wolves descending on the prey that thought it had outrun them.

"You said he was dead. The news said he was dead," Jeffrey murmured, looking between Steve and Danny.

"Reports of my death were greatly exaggerated," Danny said and walked toward him with an unnatural calm that instantly sent up warning flags on Kono's radar. She knew him too well to think he was actually calm. "Between you and me, the guy you hired was a crap shot."

"What were you saying about winning?" Mags slapped her hand upside the back of his head as she stalked by.

The unnatural calm of Danny broke when he pulled his fist back and socked Jeffrey in the face. Once, twice, three times before Chin grabbed his shoulder as two guards came in warily, not sure how to handle a team with full immunity working a prisoner over. Bloodied scales disappeared back into Danny's hand in the blink of an eye.

"That was for trying to kill me, my ex-wife, and especially my daughter," Danny said as he shook out his hand.

Jeffrey, unable to bring his hands up to his face, simply scrunched it up. One eye welled with tears from the hit to his nose while red bruising blossomed under the bloody cuts and scrapes from Danny's rough scales coming into contact with his jaw and cheekbone.

Steve crouched close to his ear, his voice low and full of menace, "You come after anyone on my team again, they won't know where to find the body."

The team started to head for the doors, having no more need to be in here. They had their confession, they had their evidence, they had even let Danny get a few wallops in. Did it feel like justice? No. Did it feel good enough for now? Yeah.

"You're just a bunch of cowboy cops. I worked with Marilyn for years," Jeffrey hissed around a split lip. "You don't scare me. You can't."

Kono saw the red haze cross Danny's face as he rounded on Jeffrey, but Steve firmly grasped his upper arm in a vice like grip. This wasn't their interrogation room or a remote house in the jungle. There were guards standing by and security cameras in the corners of the room. They'd be doing good if they got away with what they had already done to Jeffrey.

"One more thing," Steve said before they walked out of the room. "Guard, take this man to solitary confinement. He's going to be there a while."

* * *

Turns out, his insane partner actually had a reason for having Jeffrey thrown into solitary confinement other than it felt good. Thirty days of him being cut off from other prisoners and being around different guards would give the team enough time to freeze all his hidden assets and figure out how he'd hired a mercenary from inside prison walls.

It worked for Danny, so long as that scum would never ever be putting Grace in any sort of danger ever again.

"You gonna be okay?" Steve asked as they walked up the sidewalk to Danny's house.

It was nearing ten o'clock that night. They'd had a barbeque at Steve's house to welcome him back to the land of the living, much to the surprise of those who hadn't been in on the loop. His face was still stinging from where Rachel had slapped him. Repeatedly. Steve also had a matching handprint on his cheek.

"What? Alone in my own place?" he flapped a hand out at his front door. "I'm not five, I can handle a night alone."

"I know, Danno," Steve said. His mouth moved like he was going to say more, but he stopped midway through forming the words. "I'm just…."

"You're worried? You're worried. It's okay to admit you're worried, you Neanderthal," he said and dug into his pocket for his key instinctively, coming up empty. "We just whacked a bear with a stick, who knows what that schmuck might do next. Where's my key?"

Steve's brows furrowed. "Then how come you don't want to crash at my place?"

"Spare," he held his hand up expectantly. "Because, I've been living with a grouchy doctor for over a week and am looking forward to not having someone awake in the house extremely early in the morning, and I'm really looking forward to sleeping in my own bed."

Steve dug out his spare key and handed it over. "Maybe I should–"

"No! No," he raised his hands in a halting gesture. "No, you do not need to stay here. Go home to Catherine. I'll sleep with my gun under my pillow if that makes you feel any better and you'll be the first one I call if something, most likely nothing, goes wrong. Happy?"

Steve made a noncommittal huff like an upset puppy. "No."

Danny sighed and massaged his forehead, playing with the key in his other hand instead of unlocking the door. "What if I call Mags and she comes over?"

Steve raised a brow.

"Get your mind out of the gutter. It was never like that between us," he chided. "She's not an early riser usually and, unlike me, she actually does sleep with her gun in arm's reach. Happy now?"

Apparently, he wasn't happy until Danny called her and explained his stubborn partner wasn't going to go home until he had a babysitter. Though she wasn't pleased at being called a babysitter, she agreed to come.

"Now, go home, take a shower, and go to sleep. I know you haven't been sleeping well, you're starting to look a bit like a zombie, babe," Danny waved a hand at him from head to toe. "I'll survive the fifteen minutes until Mags gets here, okay?"

Without a word, Steve encompassed him in a hug which Danny gladly returned. It was good to be alive again.

"Night, Danno," Steve gave him a goofy grin and headed toward his truck parked on the curb.

"Night, Steve," he said.

Knowing darn well that Steve was going to sit in his truck outside the house until Mags arrived, Danny went ahead and let himself in. His badge and gun had been returned to him that afternoon after they'd come back from the prison, and he settled his hand on his holster while flicking on various lights in the living room and hallway.

Despite what he'd told his partner, he was still on edge, waiting for the second mercenary to pop around corner, waiting for the bullet to hit him, waiting for the bomb to go off as he cleared the house room by room until he was satisfied it was empty. Licking his lips that had gone dry from nerves, he headed toward the kitchen to get a drink and flipped the light on. It glinted on something sitting on his table.

He froze in recognition. It was a large bottle of whiskey. Irish whiskey.

"Oh no."

* * *

 **Mmhmm. Now there's whiskey. What does it mean?**

 **Next week on "Dragons", it's an AU within an AU as we turn back the clock and drop our beloved characters in an old western town under threat of outlaws. Includes a lot of familiar faces from the show. ;)**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following**!


	94. Fact 81

**I took the history from where I grew up and still live and butchered it to fit my needs. What's the fun of writing if you don't get to make up history as you go?**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for helping me out with all my insane ideas! This one got out of hand.**

 **Oh, and Xander is totally portrayed by Goran Visnjic (Flynn from Timeless definitely had an effect on his character).**

* * *

 **Fact #81: Once upon a time, the land was wild and untamed. Dragons could set the rules, break the rules, and uphold the rules as they pleased.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

As far as towns in the Wild West went, Big Bend wasn't that bad. Of course, when he'd first moved out here three years ago, Danny had balked at the simplicity of it all seeing as he had come from the east coast where towns had blossomed into cities full of people. Here in Big Bend, everyone knew everyone, and the most complicated piece of machinery was the Galloping Goose train that brought the mail, cargo, and miners looking to hit it rich.

Three years ago, it had been hell for him. Today, it was normal. He'd adjusted. This was his life now.

The morning sun had finally risen over the ridge of mountains to the east, its golden rays slotting through the river valley Big Bend sat in. Danny sat on porch of the jailhouse and watched it rise, thanking God the valley ran east to west instead of north to south where it would be in shadow the majority of the time.

"Mornin', Deputy."

He switched his gaze from the fingers of light crawling through the oak brush and cedar trees on the valley walls to the woman in the second story window of the saloon across the dirt path that served as the town's main road.

"Mornin', Miss Kono. Don't tell me your hair's wet because you've already been swimming this morning?" he gestured to the flat, shiny black halo of hair framing her face. It differed from the normally fluffy, coffee brown of her hair when it was dry.

"It was only a quick dip," she said. She shot him a smile and then disappeared back into her window.

Danny chuckled. Yes, everyone here in Big Bend knew everyone else, and as soon as he had grudgingly moved here, he had learned about all the residents rather quickly.

Kono worked in the saloon, a place creatively named the Saloon. Dressed in colorful layered dresses that hugged her tall and slim form, with feathers usually in her hair, her flirtatious smile had gotten many men in trouble when the conversation didn't go where they thought it was going. Though there were girls in that line of work in the Saloon, Kono was not one of them. Her cousin made sure she never had to sell her body like that.

Speaking of, Danny could already see Chin Ho moving about in the store down the road. The man was one of the hardest workers he had ever seen. Not only did he work in the store helping load and unload supplies, he helped out with ranchers moving or branding cattle, helped manage a handful of horses, and often lent a hand to the local law enforcement. He had saved Danny's hide quite a few times with his shotgun and his calm way of diffusing situations.

He scratched at the stubble on his chin. The air was warming with the rising sun, the chill of the early autumn night getting chased away. Despite the crisp and clear sky, and the quiet morning with the fringes of woodsmoke hanging on, there was a tingle in his toes. Days that started out with his toes tingling didn't usually turn out well.

The steady clip-clop of an approaching horse signaled the real start of his day. Sure, he got up with the sunrise, but the Sheriff was always up before that. The chestnut quarter horse mare instinctively slowed to a stop by the jailhouse, holding perfectly still while her rider slipped off. All that stillness and seeming gentleness was a façade. She was an ornery mare that could only be handled by one man.

"You leave any breakfast for me, Danno?"

Steven McGarrett. The Sheriff of Big Bend.

Danny jerked his head back. "Hey, you better thank the big guy for the bacon. He sliced it thick this time."

Steve grinned. He walked through the open jailhouse door, his boot heels making thunks on the wooden floorboards as he did. The thunking grew quiet for a moment and then grew louder again as he returned to the porch with a plate in his hand.

"You see anything on your rounds this morning, or were you just flirting with that miner's daughter up the valley?" Danny asked, a teasing gleam in his eye.

Steve scowled and used the excuse of shoveling eggs and bacon into his mouth to not answer. Danny took the non-answer as a yes. Long before he'd showed up in town, the Sheriff had been smitten with the daughter of a local miner, a woman by the name of Catherine. He hadn't failed to see he had ridden in from the east this morning, which so happened to be the same direction as her family's humble ranch.

"Duke said another two cows went missing last night," Steve swallowed the last of his breakfast and set the tin plate aside.

"Coyotes?"

"He's thinking wolves or a cougar," Steve said. He took his hat off and ruffled his fingers through his already sweaty hair. "He's setting up some ranch hands around that pasture tonight."

Danny nodded. Duke wasn't the only rancher having issues with livestock going missing. There had been no mass killings to suggest humans causing problems, and it had happened to several different people. Several had lost calves and young cows, one of Kamekona's yearling sows had vanished, Chin had had his flock of chickens halved in one night. With the valley being at the base of the Rocky Mountains, animals were a constant threat. Coyotes, wolves, bobcats, foxes, mountain lions, bears, weasels, skunks, even the eagles would do damage to fowls and young creatures.

"Calves again?" he asked.

Steve shook his head. "A bull and a heifer."

His eyebrows shot up. "A heifer I can see getting mauled by a pack or dragged off by a determined lion, but a bull? I've seen Duke's bulls, they're not easy pickings."

"I know."

"So, what're you thinking?"

"Nothing, Danny. There's nothing to say it wasn't an animal," Steve said and plopped his hat back on his head.

"And there's nothing to say it was," he retorted.

They both knew there was another culprit that got left unspoken most of the time. Neither human nor animal. The Arapahoe, Cheyenne, Navajo, and Ute all had different names for them as did the Asians and the Mexicans. To the English speakers, they were simply known as dragons.

Uncomfortable thinking about it, Danny cleared his throat and swept a hand at the tracks running north of the town. "Train's coming through in two days. Means we might get some more miners coming in, and they'll need the donkeys to get up to Rico. We better make sure nothing makes a grab at them."

The last thing they needed was a bunch of dirty men brawling over a couple of pack animals.

Steve grunted in agreement and stood up. He untied his mare's reins from the hitching post in front of the jailhouse, looped them back over her head while placing his foot in the stirrup, and swung himself up on her back. Her ears flicked back and she snorted.

"I see Johanna is in a mood today," Danny commented as he mounted his own horse, a dappled gray mustang gelding named Goose, named after the train that came through the town.

"Catherine was skinning a deer this morning. Don't think Johanna liked the blood smell," Steve said. Pulling her reins back and guiding her with his knees, he turned away from the jailhouse west on the road. "We'll check the donkeys and the mules, make sure they're secure."

"And then?" Danny asked.

Steve looked across at him. "What do you mean 'and then'?"

"There just sounded like there was going to be an 'and then' at the end of that," he said.

Shrugging, Steve settled his hands on the saddle horn and let Johanna lead the way. "Well, I was thinking we could go up to Duke's place and see if we can pick up any tracks where the two most recent cows were killed."

"Aha," he nodded. "I knew there was an 'and then'. What're you expecting to find up there, huh?"

"I don't know. Clues or something," Steve said. "Maybe a scent."

He chuckled. "Right. Because who needs bloodhounds when you've got–"

Goose's head jerked up. He ground to a halt as did Johanna. Both of them locked their ears forward, nostrils flared wide. Johanna sidled back uneasily, bumping into Goose and sending him skittering off to the side before Danny steadied him.

Steve pulled a revolver from his holster. A man on a horse was coming full bore into town from the west. Danny grabbed the rifle out of the holder on his saddle, brought it up to his shoulder, and sighted the man in all the while directing Goose back to the side of the road close to the buildings. Their horses held fast, used to gunfire and a lot of action by now.

"Steady, babe, steady," Danny hushed his gelding, bringing his other hand up from the horse's neck to the barrel of the rifle.

The rider crossed the threshold into town. Danny cursed and lowered the rifle. He'd recognize that pale buckskin anywhere, once it was close enough to see, anyway. He kicked his heels into Goose's flanks and sped back out to meet the rider.

"Easy, Steve, it's Alexander," he said.

In a cloud of dust and gravel which their two horses didn't appreciate, the buckskin came to a stop in front of them. He was lathered in sweat, his nostrils flared and his eyes wild.

Danny jumped off Goose and reached for the bridle on the buckskin. He put his hand on the rider's leg. "Xander, what the hell's going on?"

The darkly dressed rider groaned. He was bowed over the horn, looking like it was the only thing keeping him upright at the moment. "It's Pigeon Ditch."

"Whoa, hey!" Danny grunted as he had to almost bodily catch Xander as he partially slid, partially fell off his buckskin, no easy feat since the man was nearly a foot taller than him. Grasping at his dark shirt to steady him, he paused. He removed one hand from him at the wet sensation on his fingers. Blood. "Steve, get the Doc!"

Steve hastily yanked Johanna into a trot in the opposite direction.

Xander held onto his horse's neck and braced his other arm around Danny's shoulders. "You and the Sheriff…you need to…."

"You need to sit down," he interrupted. Slowly, he led him to the nearest porch they could reach, which happened to be the rickety boards outside the bank. Goose followed like the well trained horse he was. "What were you and Tundra doing clear out in Pigeon Ditch? How'd you get shot?"

Xander collapsed heavily onto the boards, using one of the support beams to keep himself in a vertical position. His already bloody hand returned to the wound in his abdomen. "Trading for leather. Listen, you need to get over there."

Danny held his shoulder as he curled in on himself with a miserable sound. Tundra, one of the most gorgeous buckskin mustang geldings he had ever seen, whickered in concern and dropped his nose to his owner's head.

"What's wrong in Pigeon Ditch? What happened?" he asked again.

Xander lifted a hand to his horse's snout and murmured something in his native tongue, some Eastern European language Danny didn't understand. He tilted his head to the side. Eyes green like sagebrush apologized before he opened his mouth. "It's the Sheriff."

Danny's heartbeat mirrored the thumping of Steve's approach, hard and quick. Johanna pulled to a stop in front of the bank with a disconcerted huff. Steve dismounted as did another person.

"Doc's up at Grover's ranch," Steve said.

"Probably wishing he was dead after all that whiskey he drank last night."

He glanced at the woman with the copper hair. "He's been shot, Miss."

"You don't say," she snipped as she crouched down in front of Xander, pushing his hand away from the wound.

Steve stayed to the side with Johanna and Goose. "You want me to ride up to Grover's and get Doc?"

"No," Xander shook his head. Beads of sweat dripped from his brow and matted his dark hair to his forehead. "I trust Mauna's hands more than Doc's."

It was no secret Doc wasn't exactly fond of many of the immigrants that the town was comprised of. Danny didn't understand why the old fart didn't just mosey along to another town that lacked diversity, though it couldn't be denied he was decent at his job and had saved several lives in the years he'd been in Big Bend.

"I may only be a healer, not a doctor," Mauna spat the word with a certain heat, "but I can handle him. Now go on. Get out of here."

Danny looked between Xander, a man he would call a friend when it came down to it, and the road west of town toward Pigeon Ditch.

"Go, Deputy," Xander ground out. "Be careful."

Inhaling deeply and trying to get his heart back to its normal rhythm, he walked to his horse's side and mounted up. Goose shot off at a brisk pace with only a heel to the flank needed. Steve and Johanna followed.

As they rode toward the town situated more on the rolling plains than the foot of the mountains, Danny mulled over what Xander had said. The Sheriff. What about the Sheriff? Had something happened to the Sheriff? Was it the Sheriff who shot Xander? But what would Xander have been doing to earn getting shot? The guy could be a bit odd sometimes and definitely had an intimidating presence more fitting of an outlaw than a leather worker, but he wasn't a violent man. Plus, he couldn't see the Sheriff shooting someone without good reason.

His gut twisted. The tingling in his toes told him something had happened to the Sheriff, a good man who had taken him in when he'd first moved across the continent. Sure, Steve was the one that had made him a part of Big Bend and a part of his family, but it was the Sheriff of Pigeon Ditch that had gotten him pointed in the right direction, taught him some of the ropes here in the untamed land.

Goose tore across said untamed land. Johanna with her quarter horse blood had overtaken them, but his mustang could keep pace with her on the flat ground. If it had been uneven terrain, it would have been a different story. Goose could climb the valley walls if he wanted to, he was that sure footed. Fast, steady, loyal, smart, and he could run on twigs and dirt as his only food for days. Where other horses took more care and maintenance, there was something about mustangs that made them sturdy. Probably the wild blood in their veins.

A pang hit him in the chest thinking about his horse. Goose had been a gift from the Sheriff of Pigeon Ditch. Of course, he had planned on naming him Gray or Stormy or something equally dull until he was teased into naming him Goose. Now he wouldn't have it any other way.

At some point they stopped to let the horses get a drink from the river that had carved the valley.

Pacing away from the edge of the cool flowing water, Danny took off his hat and ran his fingers through his sweaty blond hair. This was bad. First, the disappearances of the animals around Big Bend, and now this. Every instinct embedded in his bones told him they were connected.

"You okay?" Steve asked. He passed him a canteen.

Danny sipped at the metallic tasting water and decided he'd rather take his chance with Beaver Fever from the river than be safe with boiled lukewarm, tin tasting water. Despite that, he sipped again and then handed it back to his partner.

"Xander said something happened to the Sheriff," he said.

"And?"

Danny raised a brow. "And?"

"There just sounded like there was going to be an 'and' at the end of that," Steve repeated his earlier words back to him.

He exhaled noisily. "You know what you remind me of?"

"What?"

"One of those apes from Africa," he said. "I just…something doesn't feel right, you know? Duke's cows, Chin's chickens, Kame's pig. And now this?"

The dark look that overcame Steve's face confirmed he'd had similar thoughts. "I know. I don't like it, either."

* * *

Riding into Pigeon Ditch that afternoon was like riding into a bad dream. The town was older and larger than Big Bend. Not much larger, no, not compared to the cities Danny had grown up around, but it had more buildings and more people. Most of the folks here were farmers because of the soil. It was good for beans, corn, and wheat.

A generally friendly town with people hanging around outside when the weather permitted, it had taken on an ominous and broken air. There were people out and about, but they were fixing wagons, porches, and windows, they were sitting around the local doctor's building, and they were pulling bodies out of town.

Goose and Johanna whinnied and chewed their bits as a man looped a chain around a dead horse's back legs, hooked it to the rigging on his two mules, and dragged the poor creature away.

Danny swallowed and closed his eyes, digging his fingers into Goose's mane.

"Danny?" Steve asked.

Cudgeling his emotions together, he looked across at his partner. "That was Meka's horse."

Steve swore.

Danny blinked the unbidden tears from his eyes and looked around. Some of the townspeople shot uneasy glances at them, but then seemed to recognize them as the Sheriff and Deputy from Big Bend and returned to whatever they had been doing. Finally, he spotted someone he recognized. He stuck his fingers into his teeth and whistled.

The bay roan mustang pivoted on his hooves. His rider visibly slumped in relief as the horse came trotting over.

"It's about time," the woman seated on the roan sighed.

"What happened, Mags?" Danny questioned and waved a hand around at the destruction.

Mags was a trusted friend, one of the first people Danny had met when he moved West. Scoffing at popular convention, she was often seen in pants with a dusty hat on and a rifle at her side. Since she was of the feminine persuasion, she couldn't be a lawman, but she was relied on as backup by the Sheriff. Or, had been relied on by the Sheriff.

"Hell broke loose," Mags answered with a sad shake of her head. "Wait, how'd you know what happened so fast?"

"Xander rode into town bleeding. Said something happened with Meka."

Mags cupped her face with one hand, her gaze zeroing in on what must have been a particularly interesting strand of hair in one of the braids in her horse's mane. "I wasn't here, Danny. I'm so sorry. Maybe if I had been here, he wouldn't have–"

He let out a shaky huff and felt a tear slip down his cheek. This was no time to cry. A crying lawman wouldn't inspire a lot of faith and hope.

Mags cleared her throat and looked back up at them. "Damn it, they even killed his horse."

"Who?" Steve asked, to which Danny was grateful for. He didn't trust his voice not to crack at the moment.

"It was all of them, Steve. It was the outlaw band from the Pit itself," she said.

"Who did this?" Steve's eyes narrowed and Johanna fidgeted, sensing her rider's growing fury.

Mags leaned over and lowered her voice. "I was out at the Rhodes' farm. I only caught the tail end of it. From what it looked like there were five guys on horses."

"Five?" Danny echoed, his surprise overriding his sorrow. "Only five guys did this?"

Mags waved a hand for him to be quiet. "Five guys _on_ _horses_. There was a sixth guy. A dragon."

Danny exchanged a knowing look with Steve.

"You get a good enough look at him?" Steve asked, his knuckles going white from his grip on Johanna's reins.

"Big fella. Green scales. Long body like a snake," she said. "Was heading out of town with the rest of them by time I got within range."

Steve's teeth flashed in a snarl. "It was Wo Fat. I was hoping he'd dropped dead somewhere."

"He that guy you two caught a couple months back that escaped?"

Danny nodded. "Anyone else know who the others were?"

"That yellow bellied Sang Min knows," Mags grunted. She gestured to a man hustling between people sitting around outside the doctor's building. "Max over there said he took off as soon as they rode into town."

"Which way?" Steve's legs tensed like he was ready to kick Johanna in the right direction as soon as he had an answer.

"South," Mags pointed to the mesas in the far south.

Steve jerked the reins to the right and turned the opposite direction. "That means Wo Fat went north."

"Hey, hey, don't you think we should catch up with Sang Min and see what he knows first before we go headlong into that guy's teeth again?" Danny said, pleased when Steve rolled his shoulder in memory of the scars there.

Unfortunately, Steve shook his head. "He's not getting away this time."

Goose jumped as Johanna broke away into a gallop heading north. Danny cursed under his breath. "What about the Deputy?"

"Dead. They killed seven people and wounded a few others, but from what I hear, they were only after the Sheriff and his Deputy," Mags said. She set her hand on his forearm. "Hey. Be careful. If these guys are taking out lawmen, you're next up."

"Thanks for that, babe," he snapped. Casting one last look around as Goose grew antsy at being left behind, he meaningfully caught her eye. "Keep the town together, okay?"

"Because they're going to listen to a woman," she retorted.

"Just do that thing with the rifle like you did when I first met you," he gave her a weak grin and then sobered. "I mean it. I can't lose all my friends in one day."

* * *

Somewhere out of town, far enough out they were safe from prying and judgmental eyes, Steve had picked up a scent trail with that long tongue of his. Five humans. One dragon. Six horses. All heading north-northeast toward the sandstone canyons. At least they weren't heading toward Big Bend. Yet.

Danny couldn't imagine what must have happened back in Pigeon Ditch, which was part of the reason why he had wanted to catch the little weasel of a man Sang Min first and ask him for details. Or he should've just asked one of the townspeople, like Max. He'd been in such a hurry to catch up to his single-minded partner he'd blown off getting any information. With Steve in the lead and Goose not needing much command to follow him, he was left to speculate.

They'd probably ridden into town. Kicked up a commotion. Meka and his Deputy had either attempted to shoo them off or arrest them. Someone must have fired a shot. He knew Meka could handle himself when bullets were flying overhead as could his Deputy, and he rarely missed. He'd put money down on a bet that he'd wounded at least one of the outlaws.

Maybe that's when Wo Fat had shifted. If they were following six horses, he must have ridden in on one and boldly shifted once they were in town, or once the situation escalated. For as long as dragons had existed throughout human history, there wasn't much one could do to prepare to face one. A big one, at that.

Danny sighed, but it was lost to the wind blowing in his face. Lots of dragons had migrated to North America in hopes of less persecution. Europe, especially England, had been notoriously brutal with slaying dragons. Here, the land was broad and spacious, wild and untamed. Unfortunately, that also meant they could go unchecked easier. They could set their own laws. No need to play by the rules when no one can tell you otherwise or put a stop to it.

He shook his head free of his troubling thoughts and glanced around.

The land was turning from flat plains full of sagebrush to rocky terrain full of loose stones and sandy creek beds that were dry this time of year. Come spring time or any heavy rains and they would be flowing with torrents of brown water. Johanna came to a pause at the rim of a canyon. The land ahead of them sank into a crisscross of scars, some broad and valley like, others narrow slots.

"Steve, this is a bad idea," Danny said.

"He doesn't know we're after him. We've got the element of surprise this time," Steve said.

His chest ached for vengeance, to bring Meka's killers to justice, but he had to be the voice of reason for both their sakes. "There're six of them and two of us. We already know Wo Fat is a feisty snake, right? Hey, remember your arm and how you were laid up for weeks after he bit you? Remember that?"

"I remember," Steve grumbled.

"Good, because what if it's not just him, huh? What if the other outlaws are dragons, too?" he asked.

Steve twisted in the saddle so he could look at Danny behind him. "We can handle them. We know what to expect this time."

"Steve–"

"Danny, he killed my father. He tried to kill you. Grace. Kono and Chin. He killed Meka and his Deputy."

Danny exhaled slowly. A tight fist of rage and loss clenched in his chest, burning hot and acrid. It would be so simple to dive in there with no restraints. "I know. I know. You think I don't know that? You think I want to let him get away again after he laid a hand on my baby girl?"

Steve was silent.

"Because I don't. I don't just want him to hang, I want him to burn," he admitted. "And we'll get him this time. But let's be smart so we actually get him and he's the one in a pine box, not us."

* * *

After carefully leading the horses into the canyons, and after another handful of hours, they had tracked them down and boxed them in without being detected. The outlaws were holed up in a shabby cabin wedged between the boulders near a full creek. A hastily put together corral containing six horses sat to the side of it, a couple of scraggly cedar trees providing a bit of shelter for the animals.

They'd listened for a while, waited to see if they could figure out who the other outlaws were. Hidden behind an outcropping of sandstone with their two horses safely out of sight and hopefully out of earshot, Danny and Steve lay prone and watched the cabin. The long shadows creeping through the canyon camouflaged them well, but presented a different problem. The horses couldn't see in the dark, and they couldn't either. Depending on how long the outlaws had been here, any element of surprise he and Steve had was useless if the others knew the geography better.

"Maybe we should wait until morning," he said quietly.

"If we can't see well, neither can they," Steve said.

"What kind of reasoning is that? It's better if everyone's blind? If I fall and break my neck because of this stupid plan," he left the threat unsaid. Of course, if he fell and broke his neck he wouldn't be able to carry out any threat, but still.

It didn't take long before a noisy argument broke out in the cabin and spilled outside into the failing sunlight. Danny squinted and then his eyes went wide.

Mags wasn't kidding about this being the outlaw gang from Hell.

He couldn't make out what the argument was about, but in the snatches of light from the oil lamp one of the men had carried outside to watch the fight, he recognized some of the men involved and his stomach churned. This was definitely a bad idea.

Rick Petersen, bank robber pulling jobs from North Carolina to Utah. Gabriel Waincroft, cattle rustler from Texas. Kaleo, immigrant that had come over with Chin, Kono, and Kame, and had been involved with some Mexican outlaws. He didn't recognize the one holding the lamp, a skinny guy with long black hair tied back.

Beside him, Steve tensed with a barely audible growl as two more men exited the cabin.

Victor Hesse, Irishman involved in several murders and robberies, including the one that had killed Steve's father John. He forcefully broke up the fight between Petersen, Kaleo, and Waincroft, his voice but not his words rising angrily in the twilight.

The last man was Wo Fat. He was the mastermind and had been working with Hesse for a while. Danny half-suspected Hesse of being the one that helped Wo Fat escape the jailhouse several months back.

"What is he doing working with the likes of these guys?" he questioned.

Steve flipped on his back and slid down the sandstone. He checked that his rifle was loaded and looked up at Danny, his face shadowed by his hat and the dying light. "We do this now. You good, partner?"

"No," Danny shook his head. He hated this plan. However, he knew Steve would go through with it with or without him, and if he did it alone, he was liable to get killed. He sighed dramatically and slid down the back of the sandstone. "Hey, you shoot me instead of them and I'll stick my boot where the sun don't shine."

Steve cracked a smirk at him.

* * *

While the plan hadn't fallen apart like Danny had anticipated, it hadn't gone exactly accordingly. It felt like an hour had passed, but in all likelihood it had only been ten minutes. Suffice to say, a lot had happened in those ten minutes. The cabin was on fire, the six horses had broken loose, Hesse and the unknown man were dead, Kaleo had split with the horses, Petersen and Waincroft were periodically firing off shots from whatever hidey hole they'd found in search of Steve on the opposite canyon wall, and underneath his claws, he had Wo Fat pinned down.

"Never knew you had it in you," Wo Fat chuckled. Danny pressed his face harder into the sandy ground, flexing his massive curved talons and snorting hotly. The Serpent huffed out a cloud of dirt. "I figured the Sheriff would have wanted to have been the one to take me down."

"I've got something he doesn't," Danny said. He steadied himself as the long and muscular body under him squirmed. He leaned down close to his ear. "My scales are tougher than his."

Which was why he'd been the one to go in instead of Steve. They knew from experience that even in dragon form, Steve's scales were vulnerable to being pierced by fangs, whereas Danny's were not. Add that to the element of surprise and he'd gotten the drop on Wo Fat. Finally.

A bullet zipped by his shoulder. Steve fired two shots at the outcropping of rock one of the other men must've been behind. It was a game of who ran out of bullets first.

"Tell me, Deputy, why don't you kill me now?" Wo Fat asked. He grimaced as a spray of embers from the burning cabin flurried around them.

"Why'd you kill those people in Pigeon Ditch?" he snarled, eyeing the Serpent's neck, the spot right behind his head. If he just grabbed him right there between his jaws and bit down, he'd snap it like dry timber. It took a lot of restraint to not be the animal he so easily could be. "Why'd you kill the Sheriff? You didn't even take anything! You just went in and murdered people and left! Why'd you do it, huh?"

Wo Fat grunted. "A wise man knows when to stay silent."

"And you're about to be a dead man if you don't tell me," he barked. He could feel the heat of the fire on his right wing and side as the cabin began to collapse. Burning wood pieces landed against him, but though he registered the heat, it didn't bother him. Wo Fat, on the other hand, hissed as one landed on his tail. "What's the matter? Afraid of some sparks? Tell me what I want to know and maybe I won't let you burn."

At the non-answer he received, he clamped his teeth down on one of his branched horns and jerked him closer to the fire.

"You would let me burn alive? Like the dragon slayers and witch hunters of old?" Wo Fat asked calmly, but there was a note of fear in his voice. Muted curses of pain were breathed out as more embers dotted his face, neck, and shoulders, glowing hot on his not-so-fireproof scales.

"Hey, hey. Don't you dare compare me with those monsters," he said and flared his wings open wider. "Tell me. Now. Or I'll let Steve ask you, and trust me, he's not in a forgiving mood. I'm not either, not after you kidnapped my daughter last spring and not after you killed my friend today."

"I did not kill the Sheriff," Wo Fat said. One bright eye swiveled to look up at him. "Kaleo did."

"Under your command!" He yelled. With one sweeping movement of his wing, he fanned the fire and brought a swirling blizzard of ash and embers toward them. He didn't even pretend to fell bad at the cry of pain as the burning pieces landed on the Serpent's face.

"We were paid," Wo Fat finally growled.

Danny leaned forward, putting more weight on the front half of the Serpent's body. He formed a barrier between the fire and them with his wing. "Who? Who paid you?"

"New financier," Wo Fat grumbled. "It was just business."

"Business? Killing a Sheriff and six others was just business?" he questioned lowly. "Give me a name."

Wo Fat chuckled dryly. "I'm sorry, Deputy, but there are some things to be more scared of than a vengeful Sheriff."

Danny lifted his wing, letting the embers come back down on them. "How about fire? You more scared of fire, huh?"

"Luck," Wo Fat said and tilted his head. "Luck can be far crueler than anything. You never know when it's going to run out."

The Serpent bucked and threw a fistful of dirt and ashes in his face. Danny shook his head and clenched his eyes shut. Wo Fat wriggled out from under him and scurried up the canyon wall. A bullet grazed him, slowed him down a little, and then he was gone into the night.

Shaking his head and hissing a blue streak, he wondered why the Asian had to be so cryptic all the time. Luck always seemed to be on his side, so why did he call it cruel? Or was he referring to his and Steve's luck? No such thing as luck.

The day's events started to catch up to him and he rocked back onto his haunches, staring at the ground and the glowing embers flitting by. He should get to cover. Go find Petersen and Waincroft, take them out. He was just so tired. So tired of losing everything.

Luck. Good luck. Bad luck. No luck. Lucky horseshoes. Lucky rabbit's foot. Lucky people. Luck of the Irish.

Lucky four-leafed clover.

* * *

Danny started awake, utterly confused where he was. As he blinked and his eyes adjusted, he started to recognize his ceiling in his bedroom with its slow turning fan. Awareness came back gradually. Gray light seeped through the window. The glowing numbers on the clock by his bed read 6:12am. So much for sleeping in.

"That was a weird dream," he muttered into his hands as he scrubbed them over his face. Riding horses, chasing outlaws, reliving the death of Meka and the capture of Wo Fat. Almost capture. Though it was a figment of his imagination, he strangely felt like he was going to miss Goose.

The end of the dream came back to him in fuzzy thoughts. What had put cowboys and the Old West in his brain, he didn't know, but he had an inkling where Wo Fat's line about luck came from.

He heaved himself out of the comfort of his covers and grabbed the unopened bottle of whiskey from his nightstand. His thumb rubbed over the waxy seal of a four-leaf clover as he trudged from his bedroom to the living room.

Mags needed to know who was in town.

* * *

 **Check out the art page for small sketches of the horses.**

 **Next week on "Dragons", Mags and Danny remember old friends from their days as Newark detectives. Steve gets looped in on what the four-leafed clover is and why it's worrisome.**

 **So, how'd you guys like the Western AU? It was supposed to be a small romp, but got away from me and decided to try and be a full story. Would you guys like to read a fully realized story? If I did that, I'd publish it as a separate story, but it would still be part of the Dragons AU, if that makes sense.**

 **As always, thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! Cracked 300k words!**


	95. Fact 82

**Now onto the whiskey!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #82: Beware where the gifts come from.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

Tamarin awoke with a start, not knowing what time it was. There was light coming through the crack in the blackout curtains. Must have been daytime. She scrubbed a hand over her face. After being kept in a dark box for almost five years with only a reptile light and brief walks around the ship when she wasn't drugged, her internal clock was shot. She'd wake up at two in the morning and go to sleep at one in the afternoon. It had been brutal trying to get into a normal routine.

She pushed herself upright and sat on the edge of the bed. She should go outside today while it wasn't raining. Take baby Danny into the garden behind the house to see the snails and toads. Or at least hold the rabbit her mum had gotten her.

Grabbing the crutches from where they were on the floor, she grunted and maneuvered onto her foot, taking a steadying breath in. She hopped over to the window and pulled back the curtain. It wasn't as late as she thought, probably only mid-morning.

"Alright, sweetheart, mum's finally awake," she said as she hopped to the crib.

Her stomach churned. It was empty.

"No, no, no, no, no," she muttered. Her breaths came rapid and shallow. "Danny? Danny?!"

She threw open the door to her room and bolted down the hallway as fast as a one-legged woman on crutches could. This couldn't be happening. Not now. She'd been trying so hard to get back to normal, to try to make her life her own again, to give her son a better life. He couldn't be gone. He couldn't.

"Mum!" she screeched. She barreled into the kitchen. "Mum, Danny's gone! He's –"

Her mum turned around quickly and held a hand out to her. "It's okay, love, he's fine. I've got him, Tam, I've got him."

Heart thundering in her ears, she barely registered her mum's words, but her eyes landed on the baby boy cradled on her mum's hip, sucking on his hand contentedly while her mum cooked lunch.

"I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to scare you by taking him, but I didn't want to wake you up since you had been awake most of the night," her mum explained. She crossed the kitchen and wrapped her free arm around her shoulders.

Tamarin dropped her head against her mum's chest, letting out a gentle sob and feeling hot tears drip down her cheeks. "I know. I'm sorry for freaking out."

"Don't apologize," her mum chided softly. "Go sit down. I made some tikka masala."

"My favorite," she huffed into her mum's shirt.

"Anything for my child," her mum pressed a kiss on her hair. "No one's going to take your baby away from you, Tam. They'll have to do it over my dead body."

She sniffed and nodded. The wrath of an Indian mother was not something to take lightly.

* * *

Danny threw on a shirt and sweats, made coffee quietly that morning, and sat at the dining room table, still lost in the dregs of his dream. He sighed wearily. It seemed like it would almost be easier back in those days, when criminals were hanged when they did wrong. No red tape and unfair justice systems. Then again, it was easier to get blamed and shot for something without those systems. As a cop, he had a complicated relationship with the modern justice system.

"It's a bit early for whiskey, isn't it?"

He glanced over at the living room. Mags was peering over the arm of the couch at him, her loose gray-brown hair disheveled and wildly framing her face.

"After the week I've had," he waved a hand around without needing to finish his sentence.

Mags grunted and rolled herself off the couch with audible effort. She hitched her flannel pajama pants up higher on her hips and straightened her t-shirt as she walked over to join him at the table. Shaking her head, she finger combed her hair back into a somewhat tamed style.

"You had a horse before you moved to Jersey, didn't you?" Danny asked offhandedly.

Mags squinted at him as she yawned. "Yeah. Why?"

Danny leaned back in the chair with a shrug. "Oh, nothing. I just had a weird dream last night where Steve was the Sheriff of this old western town and you were the unofficial Deputy of a nearby town. You had one of those splotchy reddish brown horses."

"Ember. That was my bay roan mustang," she said.

He nodded, his gaze falling to the handle of his coffee mug. He smoothed his thumb over the porcelain and a small smile flitted on his lips. "X-Files was there, too."

Mags huffed. "You know, strangely enough, I can picture Xander living in the Old West. Lot less for him to be paranoid about."

"You keep in touch with him?" he asked.

She folded her arms in front of her and rested her head on them. "Was waiting in my car to meet with him when I found the blog about your death. He was actually perturbed about it."

"He's perturbed about a lot of things. What were you meeting with him for?" he asked. Xander, or X-Files as he had tagged him as all those years ago, had been an informant of theirs. Despite not being involved in any major crimes they knew of, he kept his fingers on the pulse of the underworld for one reason or another.

"I was lonely. What do you think? He had some information about something that went down in New York a month ago," she said, scuffing her feet under the table like a little kid.

"Did you ditch a case to fly out here?"

"Nah. It was a dead end. You dream of informants and ex-partners often?"

A vague notion of Sang Min and Kamekona being involved came to the forefront, but he simply shook his head. He dreamt of more bad guys than informants usually. The dream was a one-off. Then again, there had been an extraordinary amount of bad guys in that dream, as well.

"I hope it doesn't become a reoccurring thing. I don't think I can take Steve hijacking my dreams as well as my job and car. I think this gave me anxiety," he pushed the whiskey bottle down the table to her.

Mags lifted her head and reached for the bottle. She examined the label, then tilted it to look at the wax seal. One eyebrow twitched. "Well, that's comforting."

"I'm going to assume that means it wasn't from you," he said.

"Yeah, right. I can afford that kind of whiskey," she slid the bottle back to him. "You could sell it and pay rent for a year."

He ran a hand over his hair and down the back of his neck. Some unreasonable part of him had hoped it was all a coincidence and that Mags had left him a gift. Or maybe even Steve, though that thought was more outlandish than the first. To his knowledge his partner didn't drink whiskey, and to that end, Danny rarely, if ever, drank it. Plus, the price tag attached to the bottle was too high for it to be a gift from one of his friends.

"So," Mags hunched over the table and eyed him, "you going to look the gift horse in the mouth or cross your fingers and hope someone's not harassing you?"

"Shouldn't accept gifts from devils," he said. "Never know what's in the details."

"Don't tell the devil. You going solo like last time a bottle of whiskey showed up in your house?"

He frowned. "Hey, if I recall correctly, I didn't get very far until a certain nosy detective caught on and inserted herself into my investigation."

Her lips quirked upward. "You needed someone to keep you from doing something stupid."

"Right. Because two of us doing something stupid makes it better. Chief Callahan almost had both of our badges when that lawyer pulled whatever string he did, remember?" He pointed at her. That was one nice thing about Five-0. Not many lawyers bothered with them. Speaking of Five-0, "I'm not that man anymore, babe. I've got a team, now. My partner may be a Neanderthal, but he has my back."

"Good," she sat back. "Because if he didn't, I'd have to slug him again."

Danny grinned at her. Steve had told him all about his ex-partner's introduction. He'd expect nothing less. He sobered as his eyes trailed from her tired face to the exposed part of her right arm, and guilt suddenly gnawed at him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, you know. I wish I could've been there for you."

She crossed her arms over her chest, covering the scarring with her left hand. "It wasn't your fault."

"But we were partners. If I had been there with you, I could've backed you up in that warehouse and –"

"If you had what? Waited another five months to move? And then you would've what? Stopped me from going up those stairs? Put me out like Raph did? There was nothing you could've done to prevent this," she flexed the hand on the scars.

He swallowed. She was probably right, but no amount of logic could keep him from running over scenarios in his head of the different outcomes. He hadn't even met Steve yet when he got the call from her after she'd woken up in the hospital. It had been yet another mountain of misery when he had already been bearing the whole of the Rocky Mountains on his shoulders.

"At least you caught the schmuck."

"Two years and one resignation after the fact," she muttered. She cleared her throat and changed the subject. "You bringin' your Neanderthal in on this?"

"He's not _my_ Neanderthal," he objected as he grabbed his phone.

"Whatever you say," she said and stood up. "I'm going to go make myself look semi-human."

Danny tapped his fingers on the table as the phone rang. He wasn't surprised when it was answered after the first ring. "Hey, you know how I said nothing would go wrong?"

* * *

Steve had obviously tapped into some glitch in the fabric of space/time and learned how to teleport. Danny knew for a fact it took longer than ten minutes to get to his place from Steve's, and yet as he peeked out the living room window, he saw the Silverado pull up to the curb behind Mags' rental car. The man had made it here in eight minutes.

He opened the front door before he made it up the pathway. "Easy, Mario Andretti. Where's the fire?"

Steve scowled at him. "You said you had a problem."

He rolled his eyes and gestured for him to come in. "I didn't say it was an immediate threat. You want a cup of coffee or some cereal or something?"

"Yeah, sure," Steve sat at the table, hands clasped together and shoulders tense.

"Yeah, sure, what?"

"Coffee. I already ate this morning. What'd you call me over for?"

Danny set a mug down in front of him with the perfect amount of cream and sugar. After years of being partners with someone, it was second nature to know how they took their coffee. Seeing how tightly wound his partner was made Danny reconsider handing him a cup of caffeine, though. He eased into his chair with his now cool coffee.

"You see that bottle of whiskey?" he gestured to it.

Steve whistled. "Didn't know you had such expensive tastes, buddy."

"I don't," he said. His knee bounced with nervous energy. "That was a _gift_ from someone I knew back in Jersey."

Steve latched onto how he said 'gift'. "What's going on?"

"I think someone dangerous from New York may be trying to put down roots here on the island, otherwise I don't know where this whiskey came from. It was here on the table when I got home last night," he explained.

"Who?"

Mags stood behind his chair and held her phone in front of his face. "Might be a legit business venture here, or not. It's never a sure thing. But, he thought it'd be better to have more than a short tempered detective and a gimpy PI pursuing it."

Steve took her phone off her and enlarged the picture. His eyes widened and he glanced over at his partner. "Her?"

"Yeah. Why? What's wrong? You recognize her?" he narrowed his eyes at his partner.

"Danny, she was at your funeral."

* * *

Deep in the bowels of Halawa Correctional Facility, Jeffrey stared at the ceiling in his cell in solitary confinement. His internal clock told him it was morning. Not that he needed to rely solely on his internal clock, the prison wasn't a complete hellhole. There was light and food in solitary, no matter how much some may wish it was a catacomb only the truly evil were disposed down.

He tucked both hands behind his head, inhaled deeply, and let it out in a growl. "It may not be me, Five-0, but someday it'll be somebody."

They were going to uproot all of his assets, turn over every rock. He was sure that was why he'd been pitched into this lonely box with its single cot. They'd find how he'd contracted the hit, how he'd paid, try to strip him of any power he held, all the while making sure he couldn't make any more moves.

Resting in the knowledge there would be one or two things they overlooked, he would wait. He would wait and bide his time until his thirty days were up. Then, he would make himself a king among the inmates. He'd secure his crown when every member of Five-0 had fallen.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", things fall through with Jeffrey and Danny reveals something troubling to Steve.**

 **Okay, since you all seemed to enjoy the Western AU, I'm going to attempt to get a separate story cudgeled together. The question is, do you guys want it to take place in the Dragons AU (as in, I'll post it as its own story but it'll involve the same principles and creatures of this fic) or as a strictly human fic?**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! It means a lot! Never thought I'd crack 300k words on a fic. Ever. Mind blowing.**


	96. Fact 83

**I've got lots of things brewing. So many ideas. Enjoy.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #83: Within an ancient poem concerning dragons, there is a line that goes, 'Creature of darkness, creature of light, creature who walks a fine line between wrong and right.'**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

Jeffrey stared at the ceiling of his cell. There was little else to do. Last night had been his second night without human contact. He supposed he could scratch out the tally marks on his wall, counting down the days until he was released back in with general population. In all honesty, thirty days was nothing. What irked him more than being isolated was the knowledge Five-0 was currently tearing through his hidden bank accounts, upending his storage lockers where his various material assets were, still dismantling the operation piece by piece, person by person.

He was sure Marilyn would be pissed at the Florida facility being discovered. By now, almost all her employees had been arrested, and with the mainland facility inoperable as well as the two ships, there was little hope of doing anything with what remained. Then there was the issue of the buyers. They'd stayed well away from the burning empire, not interested in switching from Gucci and Armani to prison orange jumpsuits.

A smirk tugged at his lips. That was one thing Five-0 couldn't take from them. No one knew the names of the buyers except for him and Marilyn, and he knew for a fact she would never divulge such information, and neither would he. It was one victory.

"Up and at 'em, Mills."

He glanced over at the guard curiously. "Where's breakfast, Brandon?"

"In the cafeteria," the guard said. There was a buzz and the door to his cell slid open. "Whatever deal the Commander made with the Governor or the Warden or whoever fell through. Consider your thirty days up."

Jeffrey smiled broadly. Make that two victories.

* * *

Yesterday had consisted mostly of office work despite the looming threat of a whiskey giving crime lord hanging over their heads. Mags had offered to do some legwork while the team took care of business concerning Danny's resurrection. Who knew there would be so much paperwork involved in bringing someone back from the dead?

Today, however, Steve was on the case and had brought the rest of his team onboard. Or, attempted to, at least. The Governor had a backlog of cases they were supposed to be handling during the whole fiasco with the attempt on Danny's life and their subsequent investigation, but they had been put on the backburner. The Governor's leniency was now up, which left Chin, Kono, and Catherine to handle said cases while he, Danny, and Mags worked this one unofficially.

He turned down a busy, tourist filled street quickly, earning a muttered curse from his partner. He smirked. It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders or a void in his soul filled now that Danny was sitting in the passenger seat of the Camaro, as it should always be, no matter how much his partner griped about the seating arrangement.

"How do you and Mags know this woman?" Steve asked.

Danny's hand danced out in a flitting motion. "Various circumstances and ties to cases we worked back in Jersey. I'm not even sure how we got turned onto her scent now, I just know we did, and we could never scrape together enough evidence or doubt to do anything about it. There's Mags."

Steve pulled into an illegal parking spot. Danny shook his head, but didn't comment further. He simply rolled down his window. "What's up?"

Mags braced her forearm on the top of the door and leaned down. She had traded her teal long-sleeved collared shirt for a thin, gray long-sleeved cotton button down and blue jeans. Aviators slid down her nose as she peered in at them.

"I don't think she's staying at any of the hotels," she said. She tilted her head toward the closest building, a large resort with a grand open-air entrance spilling over with lush tropical plants. "But I think she has a meeting here today."

"With who?" Danny asked.

"Dunno," Mags glanced over her shoulder suspiciously. "I saw Achutebe staking out the restaurant on the second floor."

"He's one of her bodyguards," Danny clarified for Steve's sake. He was still in the catching up process. "He didn't see you, right?"

"If he did, he didn't react," she said. "I'm going to hang in the lobby. Do some people watching."

"We'll call you if we see something," Danny said.

Steve drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as she walked away. He wanted to attack this thing head-on like he did everything. Subtlety wasn't exactly his strong suit. Danny, on the other hand, had repeatedly told him both yesterday and this morning that going full speed at this like he did with Hiro Noshimori and Governor Jameson would only result in a lawyer with a nasty bite coming after them and Governor Denning coming down on their heads.

"Why'd she give you a bottle of whiskey?" he asked. He needed something to focus on.

"To torment me," Danny grumbled. His hands came up to gesture in complimentary movements. "She knows we have nothing on her, that we've never had anything on her, we're just a couple of pests, and yet, instead of like a regular criminal overlord who would swat some pesky detectives, I think she's amused by it. She made me an offer, you know? I turned her down, expecting to get in an unfortunate accident the next day, but she wasn't offended. No, she was impressed with my integrity."

Steve huffed a small laugh. "Sounds like she has a crush on you, Danno."

"I believe she said she has a soft spot for me," he corrected.

"When was the last time you dealt with her?" he asked, settling back in the seat and letting his eyes scan the numerous people hanging around the strip of hotels and beaches.

Danny scratched at the back of his neck. "About one month before I left. Rachel and Stan had just moved to Hawaii, my daughter was half-way across the world, and I was in a bad place. Like, really bad. Matty was coming and staying with me at the motel. Bringing beer and just sitting there, you know?"

Steve nodded.

"Anyway, Matty wasn't the only one worried about me. Mags and I were working a few cases and almost really screwed one up. I almost screwed it up. I couldn't keep my head in the game knowing my daughter was gone. We only managed to catch half of the guys involved in this grand theft auto crew and I still firmly believe to this day that we didn't catch all of them because I missed something."

"Danny–"

"No." He held up a hand. "It happens. Sometimes we miss something, but it hit me hard. So hard that Mags actually took my service weapon before I went to the motel."

A sense of mortification came over Steve at the thought of his partner being that low.

"You know, if there had been a bottle of whiskey waiting for me then, I don't know what I would've done," Danny continued quietly. He passed a hand over his eyes and sighed. "But, there wasn't a bottle. I walk into my room and flick on the light and get the living daylights scared out of me before I can even be angry. There, sitting in a chair, is Shamrock. If I had had my gun, there was a high chance I would have shot her. No questions asked."

Steve had twisted slightly to face his partner, sparing only a peripheral look at the tourists coming and going from the resort. This was far more important than the mission.

"I, of course, question why she's there, tell her that there's no way I'm doing anything for her. This woman, Steve, this criminal mastermind, lets me rant for almost half an hour about duty and honor and being a good cop and a good father and how one day she's going to get caught, and then she calmly tells me she knows about my divorce. She knows Grace is in Hawaii," he said, sounding more frantic with each sentence. "She's not threatening them. No. She would never do that directly. You know what she tells me?"

"No." Steve shook his head.

"She tells me to move. Tells me I'm going to wind up dead, or wind up fired and then dead at the rate I'm going," he said slowly, carefully. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Matty had already told me to move to Hawaii, but I hadn't taken any steps toward doing that. You know what she does? She hands me transfer papers. Already filled out transfer papers. All I had to do was turn them in. She was the one that got me the job with HPD."

"You're kidding." Steve's eyes were wide.

"Nope. I wish I was, babe, trust me," Danny said. He sank back in the seat and let out a long, weary sigh. "It's not a good thing to owe a crime boss. But I owe her for my life here, for getting to see Grace more than twice a year. Probably for saving my life."

Steve stared at his partner thoughtfully. For all his talking, he rarely opened up about his life before Hawaii. There were even things that had happened while he was with HPD that he still didn't know about. To get all this information at once was overwhelming.

"You don't think she came to the island just because of your funeral, do you?" he asked, because in his honest opinion, it sounded like this woman, crime boss or not, cared.

"I don't know, Steve. For her to show up at my funeral, and then leave a bottle of whiskey on my table? I think she was in town before she knew about my funeral, maybe even left the whiskey in the house before then." Danny shrugged.

Danny's phone vibrated. Steve turned his eyes back to the tourists as he pulled it out and answered.

"You got something? No, stay there and – oh. Did you recognize him? Yeah. Yeah, okay. We'll be up," Danny said and grabbed the door handle. "Come on. Mags said she just walked into the restaurant with what looked like a businessman."

Steve crawled out of the Camaro and glanced around, wondering how he missed them.

"Don't worry, Super SEAL, you didn't miss her. She was already in the hotel from the sounds of it," Danny said.

"What're we going to do?" Steve asked.

"We're going to talk to her."

"Okay."

"What? Why'd you say okay like that?"

Steve took a right toward the bank of elevators once they had walked into the lobby. "We're just going to go in and ask her why she's here?"

"No. I'm going to talk to her, you're not going to say anything," Danny said.

The elevator doors opened and Danny walked out before Steve could object to that plan. The white tiles and clean floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beach made the lobby up here spacious. To the left sat desks where guests could plan activities and to the right sat a cocktail bar. He almost missed Mags sitting on one of the stools with a drink that didn't quite look like a virgin cocktail in her hand. At the end of the lobby directly in front of them was the entrance to a restaurant with indoor and balcony seating.

"Excuse me, do you have a reservation?" the maître d' asked as they tried to walk by him.

They flashed their badges. The maître d' nodded and let them through with a quizzical look. Danny navigated through the tables like he knew exactly where he was going, despite Steve wanting to take a moment to get the lay of the land and spot any potential threats. He didn't question it, though. He had already questioned his partner's instincts too many times in their three and a half years, and he was going to have to learn to trust him even when his gut said otherwise.

Danny came to a stop at a table by one of the large windows. Two people occupied it. Taking a moment to analyze where it was placed, he realized Danny must have known she would pick a table with a decent view of the restaurant and one that was close to a second exit.

"Long time, no see, Shamrock," Danny said lightly.

The man sitting opposite of the woman made a disgruntled face and mumbled something in Japanese. She, on the other hand, responded just as quietly in the same language, then set her whiskey tumbler down and offered a small grin.

"I thought I saw Miss Burnham in the lobby," she said with a gentle Irish lilt.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. He kept behind his partner and watched the patrons around them. Two gentlemen at a nearby table were watching them curiously, one a white male of average height and build with blond hair, and the other a very large black male with a bald head and hands that looked like they could pull a wall apart. Both of them wore cotton collared shirts and slacks, and if he was guessing correctly, both of them were carrying weapons.

"They have permits, Commander."

He looked at the woman. She had twisted in her chair to face them. She was not a slim twig, nor a big woman, nor overly muscled, only of average build and about Danny's height. A white collared shirt and a black pencil skirt graced her soft featured frame, as did the cascade of ginger hair draping around her face and over her shoulders. Where Mauna had darker, coppery red hair, hers was a carroty orange with several braids of varying sizes throughout as well as beads and feathers tied in.

The most striking feature were the innumerable freckles on her face and chest. They clustered together on the bridge of her nose and cheekbones, giving her a distinctly impish appearance.

"I hope you didn't hype me up to mythical proportions, Detective," she said, breaking him out of his analytical mindset. "Your partner is speechless."

"No, ma'am. He told me exactly all I needed to know," Steve said evenly.

Her hazel eyes slid from him back to Danny. "I know it's a small island, but not that small. To what do I owe the interruption to?"

"I got your gift," Danny said, one hand fluttering around while the other stayed in his pants pocket. "Bit expensive for my tastes, but I'm flattered nonetheless."

She blew a small breath through her nose in a snort. "I doubt you've acquired a taste for whiskey since I last saw you. However, I got word of your death, and no wake is complete without whiskey."

"I heard you were at the funeral," he said. "Was it nice? I wasn't there myself."

"It was a lovely service. Grace has gotten tall," she said, and the way she said it didn't sound like a threat, merely an observation. Danny wasn't kidding. This woman seemed the furthest thing from a crime boss. "I doubt you came to interrupt my business lunch because you wanted to talk about whiskey."

"So, it is business?" Danny finally turned his attention to the confused man sitting across from her.

"This is Koyo Uchibayashi. He runs a shipping business that services a large portion of the Pacific Rim," she said.

"Trying to expand from Africa into Asia, huh?" Danny asked.

"It recently came to my attention there is a niche to be filled," she said. She tilted her head to the side and peered at them from under an awning of long lashes. "If I have the chance to offer shipping from Asia to my clients, I'm going to take it."

Steve frowned as his phone vibrated. He shot the screen a look. His frown morphed into a scowl.

"As lovely as it is to see you're not dead, Detective, if you don't mind, I would like to get back to my meeting with Mr. Uchibayashi," she said. Her fingers danced over the rim of the crystal glass in front of her, gold and silver rings glinting in the natural light from the window.

Steve stepped away to answer. An icy chill swept over him at what the voice on the other end of the line was saying. Muttering a few harsh words to the caller before he hung up, his mind strayed to the expensive whiskey. He might need a drink if this was how the day was going to go. He stepped back closer to the table and set his hand on Danny's shoulder.

"What? What happened?" Danny questioned.

Shamrock drained the rest of her drink and pivoted in her seat to be facing the businessman again. "It sounds like you have another matter to tend to. I'm sure I'll be seeing you, Detective."

Steve steered Danny away from the table at Shamrock's dismissal. He leaned in close.

"Mills was released from solitary."

* * *

An hour later, the big black man at the nearby table stood up at the same time Shamrock did. He waited patiently as she bade her lunch partner farewell. Staying a close distance behind her, he followed her out of the restaurant into the lobby.

"It was a pleasure to see the Detective again," he said, his Nigerian accent warm and soft.

"He certainly wasn't dead very long," his boss said. Shamrock scanned the area subtly and, seeming satisfied she knew no one there, walked toward the bank of elevators.

"No," he agreed and pushed the button for her.

Hands clasped in front of him, his broad shoulders testing the limits of the pale blue shirt, a few people gave him appreciative glances. Others gave him a wide berth. It suited him fine. As a bodyguard, he did not like too many people getting too close to Shamrock.

The doors slid open. He stepped inside behind her and selected a floor close to the top of the resort. No one else joined them as the car went up the shaft smoothly on well oiled pulleys. Shamrock brushed her long hair back, tucking small braids behind her ears. She undid a button or two on her shirt and rolled her shoulders.

"The meeting went well with Uchibayashi," she said.

Achutebe nodded. After the Detective and the Commander had departed, the meeting had moved along with little interruption or issue.

"His business will serve us twofold," she continued.

"It is surprising there was such an opening that had yet to be filled," he said.

"No one wants to take a man's job while he's still living, imprisoned though he is," she said.

The elevator shuddered to a stop and dinged. Achutebe had heard beautiful women referred to as moving like cats or deer, smooth and gentle and delicate. He had observed before and yet again observed now that his boss moved more like a peacock. Not with the bobbing motion of the bird, no, but with the air and pride of a creature that could put on a very flashy display if need be. Her tail feathers were relaxed at the moment.

He eyed the second bodyguard down the hallway by a door.

"Joey. I take it Five-0 has cleared out of the building," Shamrock said to him.

"Yes, ma'am," Joey dipped his head in the affirmative. A South African accent colored his words. "The Detective has a lot more clout now that he's with Five-0. The Governor gives them more leash than the Newark Police Department ever gave him."

"Danny won't be a problem. If they become too nosy and cross the line into my yard, I'll let my dog bite them," she said. She raised a hand to the door. "Achutebe will stay with me. You do what you're good at."

Joey smiled crookedly and winked. "Yes, ma'am."

"Are you sure you wish to conduct business in Five-0's jurisdiction?" Achutebe asked as Joey stalked off down the hallway.

She looked up at him. "I am. It only came to my attention because of them."

She produced a keycard and held it in front of the reader. The light blinked green. Achutebe held the door open, and then closed and locked it behind them, feeling comfortable in the room since they had chosen and carefully cleared it beforehand. No bugs, no setups.

Shamrock shook the hands of the couple already in the suite. The man sat back down on the couch with his wife's hands cupped in his while Shamrock took the seat on the other side of the coffee table. Achutebe stood out of the way by the wall.

Shamrock steepled her fingers and crossed one leg over the other. "Now, Mr. and Mrs. Farthing, tell me about your deal with Miss Walker. Then we can discuss getting you your child."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", go tell that long tongued liar, the rambler, the gambler, the backbiter, tell 'em that God's gonna cut them down.**

 **Good news. I've got the first chapter of the Western AU written. Not so good news, I'm going to wait to post until it's complete or nearly complete. I wouldn't worry too much, though, I don't plan on it being a sprawling epic. ;)**

 **Thank you for continually reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	97. Fact 84

**Johnny Cash tells it how it is. No one runs on forever.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading and consistently helping me out when I get stuck!**

* * *

 **Fact #84: Sooner or later, someone's going to cut you down.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

"What do you mean you can't do anything about it?" Steve growled at the Halawa Warden on the other end of the phone call.

Danny gripped the bar above the car door with white knuckles. The Camaro ducked in and out of lunch hour traffic dangerously like a rat trying to escape the maze of tourist related congestion the roads had become.

" _I don't know what strings you pulled to get Mills sent to solitary for a month in the first place, but whatever you did fell through,"_ the Warden snapped.

"Why didn't you call this morning when he was released?" Danny asked. "You know why he was in solitary, right?"

" _I'm well aware, but unless you figure out a legal means to get him in solitary again, he's staying in GP. I'm sorry I didn't call you earlier to warn you, but I didn't get word until now. We've had a hell of a morning with prisoners being reassigned cells. And frankly, I don't appreciate you interfering with my prison or prisoners like that, Commander."_

The Warden hung up.

The hairs on the back of Danny's neck prickled and a cold sweat started on his palms. They'd barely made a dent in cutting off all of Jeffrey's ties to assets and people on the outside, and it was still unclear how he had gotten word out to hire a mercenary. Now the heartless nutcase would be really pissed. Who knew what he would do in retaliation to Five-0 and especially to Danny's family?

"Don't worry. We'll keep Rachel and Grace safe," Steve said. For once he was on the other end of the mind reading ability in their partnership.

"But what are we going to do about Jeffrey, huh? That psychopath is going to keep trying until we're all dead for real, and he's going to get smarter about it, too," Danny said.

Steve exhaled and turned his attention to the street and the traffic. Danny worried his clenched hands on the steering wheel would leave indents. "I'll talk to the Governor. Maybe we can–"

"Can what? Get him transferred to a mainland facility? Let's face it, Steve, it doesn't matter where he is. He's going to get in contact with someone and then that's it. The next guy won't miss. The next guy won't be a dramatic sniper who sends letters as warnings. He'll pull the trigger or detonate the bomb without warning. Boom! No more Five-0," Danny said. His hands had left the safety of the bar and were flying around the car now.

The tendon in Steve's jaw tightened. This wasn't going to happen again. Not if either of them had anything to say about it.

Shifting the subject to the other criminal on their hands, he asked, "What about Shamrock?"

"What about her?" Danny furrowed his brows.

"You think she's clean? Or should we keep an eye on her?" he asked. His partner knew far more about this woman than he did, and in this situation, it seemed prudent to fall back on his expertise and advice.

Danny sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I'd say we have bigger problems than her at the moment. She really does run a legitimate shipping business and might actually be here to discuss her legal operations."

Steve sensed the apprehension he had at just letting her go unbothered, even though he was right. Jeffrey was the more pressing matter. "How about we have Chin check into her prospective business partner? We can monitor her movements from the Palace."

"Yeah. Fine. Sounds like as good of a plan as any," Danny relented.

* * *

He couldn't have asked for better timing in the deal falling through. He didn't think Marilyn was pulling strings from her mainland prison, but he didn't know. She hated loose ends and using any of her clout to help him out of solitary seemed out of character. Perhaps the Commander had screwed up. Or maybe someone liked him. No matter what had occurred, he was back in general population and headed back to his cell.

Breakfast hadn't been all that bad. Not what he had grown to enjoy having when the rich clients showed up on the ships, but filling nonetheless. He'd been stuck outside in the exercise yard between then and lunch, and now he needed to make arrangements with his cellmate to get a hold of his wi-fi enabled phone again to organize another hit. This time the job would get done.

"Will, look who's back from the–"

He stopped short of his open cell. The short, glasses wearing Will was gone, replaced by a willowy dark haired man lying on the top bunk.

"Who are you?" he questioned.

"Your new cellmate," the man said. He levered himself upright and swung his lanky legs over the edge of the bunk. "Name's Brennan."

Jeffrey leaned against the metal bars. "Where'd Will get sent off?"

Brennan shrugged bony shoulders. "Don't know, man. Jus' got in here and got told this was my new digs."

Jeffrey frowned. He needed to figure out where Will had gone. He hadn't seen him at breakfast in his normal spot, though he might have been lost in the crowd of men in the cafeteria. One thing was for certain, Five-0 surely hadn't figured out he was the go-between. They would have turned the cell inside out to seize the contraband Will had managed to acquire if they had.

A grin crept onto his face. If Will had been moved suddenly, his phone may still be in this cell.

"What're you in for, Brennan?" he asked.

"Owed a debt to somebody and now I guess I'm paying up," Brennan said. "You?"

"Allegedly transporting illegal merchandise," he said.

Brennan nodded and slid off the bunk. He looked like someone had breathed life into an aspen tree. Tall, skinny, pale, looked like he might quake in a stiff breeze.

"Just keep your nose out of my business and you might survive your stint," Jeffrey warned, moving toward the bottom bunk to start searching for Will's stuff.

"Heard you almost took out Five-0," Brennan said idly. He stood by the door with his shoulders turned inward demurely and his spine curled so he didn't look so tall.

"The rumors traveled fast, I see," he said. He felt along the edge of the thin mattress.

"You gonna try it again?"

"What did I just say about keeping your nose out of my business?" he snapped. He glared at Brennan over his shoulder. "Go read a book or play chess with somebody. Now."

Brennan hovered just inside of the cell. "You sure? Solitary can really mess with your head, you know. Sometimes human company–"

"Idiot." Jeffrey stood up and approached him. Why did his useful cellmate have to get replaced with a nosy blabbermouth? "When I tell you to leave, you leave. If I tell you to sit, you sit. When I say jump, you say how high. This is my house, my rules."

"Strong words for someone who failed to take out a detective," Brennan mumbled.

Jeffrey socked a fist into his gut and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his ear down to his level, making sure all of this was masked as a friendly exchange to the cameras. "You have no idea the things I've done. The things I've killed. Once Five-0 falls, I'll be wearing the crown and you better make damn sure you're not standing on the wrong side, understand?"

Brennan nodded quickly.

He moved back to release him when Brennan rushed forward, pushing him further into the cell. A bony hand clapped over his mouth as he was stabbed under the ribcage.

"I know the things you've done. You killed people, not things," Brennan hissed.

Jeffrey rolled his eyes to see what in the world the man had shanked him with, and stilled in fear immediately. Angular flaxen and taupe scales patterned over Brennan's wrist and arm, glistening with blood. He had driven long, curved claws into him. Gray fuzzies edged his vision.

"Consider yourself cut down," Brennan said. Glittering blue eyes bored into his skull. "And consider my debt paid."

Jeffrey cried out as Brennan yanked his claws free and let him drop to the floor in the fetal position. His limbs were leaden and tingling, his vision swimming, his heart beating in a frantic thunder. Blood loss. He knew the signs. Had been attacked by wayward dragons on the ships over the years. Way too much blood had spilled down his orange jumpsuit and leaked internally.

Brennan crouched by him, just a blurry figure tilting along the floor, becoming more and more distant as his vision weakened.

"See you in Hell, Mills."

* * *

" _I'm telling you, Steve, he's clean. Koyo Uchibayashi runs a shipping company based out of Tokyo and as far as all the records I can dig up say, he hasn't had any run ins with the law."_

It had taken over an hour to crawl through downtown traffic, frustrating Steve to the point he had flicked on the lights and sirens to get through it faster. At the moment, Danny and he were heading out of town toward Halawa to fix whatever had gone wrong with the deal. Chin had called to relay what he'd found on Shamrock's business partner.

"Are you sure? He's not involved in human trafficking or gun running or drugs or the Yakuza or anything?" Danny questioned. "Not even a parking ticket?"

" _Sorry, brah. Unless I can get a better look at his company's books and do a deep dive on them, he's clean and the company is legit."_

"Thanks, Chin," Steve said. He ended the call. "Maybe that's all it was, bud. Business."

"Yeah, maybe," Danny agreed, albeit reluctantly. One hand chopped out. "She's just frustrating, you know? I have to admit I have a grudging respect for her since she got me transferred here and hasn't killed me yet or threatened my family, but she exists in this morally gray area and I know she's involved in illegal activities."

Steve glanced at his partner then back at the road. "I'm sorry, man."

Danny was cut off from venting further irritation as his phone rang. He put it on speaker and held it up between them. "Hey, babe, tell me what you've got."

" _Got caught by Joey, that's what."_

Steve mouthed 'who' at Danny.

"Joey's her other bodyguard," he explained. His forehead scrunched in confusion. "Wait, what were you doing? Did you tail them or something? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

" _I sat on the beach after you guys left and waited for her to leave. She stayed in the hotel for another half hour after leaving the restaurant."_

"Doing what?"

" _Dunno. I was going to see if I could snoop, but Joey casually stopped me, as he does. Whatever she was doing or whoever she was meeting with, they didn't want me or you to find out about it. Got to do a perimeter check with our buddy instead and now my leg's killing me."_

"Great," Danny said. He brushed a hand over his hair, pulled in a deep breath, and let his hand fall back in his lap. "Uchibayashi checked out, but I'll have my team pull footage and see if we can identify who she's meeting with. Did you see her leave?"

" _Split around one-thirty. Black Sonata. Couldn't get the license plate and they were long gone by time I got back to my rental."_

"Sounds about right," he said. "You headed back to the house or what?"

" _No. Figured I go try that shrimp truck you told me about. Haven't had lunch yet."_

"Tell Kamekona we sent you. He'll take good care of you," Danny said. "Hey, be careful, huh? No crazy private investigator stuff. I don't think she has the same soft spot for you as she does for me."

" _Yeah, tell me about it. I don't get gifted expensive whiskey. Later."_

Danny looked across at Steve.

"Okay," Steve said, lifting his hands off the wheel in surrender. "Maybe it wasn't just legal business. What do you want to do?"

Danny had already dialed again. "I'm going to have our resident tech wizards scour the security cameras and see if they can track her down."

" _Howzit?"_

"Not good. Mags said Shamrock had a second meeting after her lunch meeting with Uchibayashi, but one of her bodyguards kept Mags from finding out much more than that. Can you pull footage from that resort?" Danny asked.

" _Shouldn't be a problem. You guys at Halawa yet?"_

"About five minutes out," Steve said.

"Shamrock left in a black Sonata around one-thirty. Mags couldn't see the plates," he added.

" _I'll check the parking lot cameras for that time. How're you holding up, brah?"_

"Oh, you know," Danny waved a hand around airily. "Just peachy. A man who tried to have me and my family killed is free to do as he wishes again and a crime boss with questionable ethics is on my island doing who knows what. I'm fan-freaking-tastic."

" _We'll get it taken care of, Danny. Don't worry. We've got your back."_

"Thanks, Chin," Danny said. He hung up and dropped his phone in his lap.

The correctional facility appeared ahead of them, its tall fences looming into sight like gleaming brambles in a metal and concrete forest. Danny shook his head. If they didn't figure out how the deal fell through and get it reinstated, there wasn't much they could do, not without crossing a line they should never cross.

The guards at the gate checked their IDs and the car before letting them through. The place seemed to hum with some kind of wary energy as they walked inside.

"McGarrett, what the hell did you do?"

They turned toward the Warden stalking out of his office.

"What happened?" Steve questioned.

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and say you didn't have anything to do with this," the Warden said.

"What? What are you talking about?" Danny asked, his hands flying out in a wild gesture.

"An hour after I talked to you, Mills was stabbed in his cell," the Warden said. "We suspect his cellmate, but we can't find the shiv."

"And you think we had something to do with it?" Steve crossed his arms over his chest defensively and scowled at the Warden.

The Warden scrubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know, Commander. Our computer system said Mills' confinement ended this morning and that he was to be released into GP again. Then, today, there was a scheduled shake up and a lot of the prisoners were reassigned into different blocks and got new cellmates as a result. It's been chaotic."

"Where do you have Mills now? The med bay or was it bad enough he was sent to a hospital? How many guards do you have on him?" Danny asked.

"None. He's in the morgue," the Warden said.

A stunned silence swept between them. A knot of anxiety unraveled in Danny's stomach and his shoulders slumped minutely. Jeffrey was dead. He was dead and couldn't threaten his family anymore. They didn't have to worry about crossing the uncrossable line.

"Who was his cellmate?" Steve asked quietly.

"William Smith originally. After the shake up this morning, Brennan O'Brian was assigned to his cell," the Warden said. He gestured beyond a barred checkpoint. "He had the blood on him, but no weapon. We're holding him in isolation until we get it sorted."

Steve moved to follow him, but Danny threw an arm out. "Wait, wait. Hold on. This all feels too coincidental, too perfectly timed." He made a circle in the air with one hand. Steve and the Warden stared at him in confusion, but he'd made up his mind. He knew what had happened, could feel it in his gut. "We need to go."

"Danny, what's wrong?" Steve asked.

"Something's not sitting right with me. Come on, Brennan will still be here later. We need to go. Now, before it's too late." Danny turned on his heel and headed back for the entrance.

Steve looked at the Warden. "Hey, keep an eye on him. He better still be alive when we come back. We need to ask him some questions."

The Warden's face darkened. "I can handle my prisoners, Commander."

"You already lost one today. Make sure you don't lose this one," Steve warned and jogged to catch up with his partner.

Outside, Danny was already climbing into the driver's seat of the Camaro. Frowning, but making no comment, Steve jumped in the passenger side. They peeled out with a spray of gravel.

"Talk to me, bud. What's all that about?" he asked once they were outside of the facility's fences.

Danny rubbed his thumb over the steering wheel, his eyes remaining dead ahead on the road. "I think my guardian angel left me a parting gift."

* * *

"Are you sure this is it?" Danny questioned.

Hangars, small aircraft, and a chain link fence flickered in the patches between the trees as they sped down the barely traveled road.

"This is the private airstrip Chin was talking about. It only has one flight leaving today," Steve said, having to hold onto the bar above the door for a change. "Are _you_ sure this is it?"

Danny nodded stiffly.

They rounded a bend. The Camaro drifted sideways on the loose gravel, fishtailing briefly before he brought it under control. The trees were gone on this front side of the airstrip, replaced with asphalt and buildings. He glimpsed a black Sonata parked outside the only hangar with a Gulfstream sitting nearby.

The car had barely stopped moving when they leapt out of it and rushed through the main building, flashing badges and thanking their lucky stars Chin had called ahead so they could get in easier.

By the time they were pounding over the tarmac to the Gulfstream, they were sweating from adrenaline despite the cooler winter weather.

"Shamrock!" Danny yelled.

The woman paused at the base of the stairs. Achutebe and Joey stepped in front of her, guns appearing in their hands, though they stayed pointed at the ground and not at them.

"Detective, you can't help but run into me everywhere," she greeted.

Steve took his gun out of his holster as they stopped in front of the trio. Achutebe stared down at him calmly, an immovable wall protecting Shamrock. Joey twitched, his stance and tightly strung muscles giving Steve the impression he had some form of military training.

"Come on, guys, you think I would shoot Shamrock?" Danny held his hands up peacefully.

"Not you. Him," Achutebe said, tilting his head toward Steve.

"You guys first," Steve said.

"Put it away, Steve," Danny muttered.

"Danny–"

"Steven."

Reluctantly, he holstered his gun. His gut said no, but his head said to trust Danny. Trust his instincts.

"You didn't rush all the way out here to say goodbye, I'm sure," Shamrock said. The gentle breeze tugged at her ginger hair, twisting the feathers tied in the braids and giving her a rather mystic look, like she was a fairy conversing with some weary travelers.

"Why are you on the island?" Danny asked simply.

Shamrock pursed her lips. "Business. Mr. Uchibayashi checked out, I presume. Why are you really here?"

Danny pressed his palms together and made a small motion. "Did you do it?"

A ghost of a smile passed over her face. "I've done many things."

"Did you kill a man today?"

Steve watched the bodyguards' expressions while masking his own. The blatancy with which Danny talked to Shamrock shocked him, to say the least. The bodyguards, however, seemed unaffected by it all.

"You think I would kill a man for you?" she asked.

"I think you're capable of a lot of things," Danny said. "Murder among them."

"You know I have a soft spot for you, Daniel," she said. "Some things I do for myself, some for others. You do look like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders since we met at lunch."

Danny rubbed his hands together and sighed. "My family was in trouble, you know."

"I could tell. Only the safety of his family would drive a man to fake his death and leave me undisturbed at lunch," she said, her Irish lilt soothing like a Celtic lullaby. She held out her hand.

Danny clasped her hand in his. "I'm going to find out who you were talking to today after your business lunch with Uchibayashi."

"Let's say it paved a valuable inroad for me," she said. She glanced at Steve. "Perhaps one day I'll get to know you better as well, Commander."

Steve quirked a smirk at her. "You may regret it."

"He's an animal," Danny added.

Shamrock turned back to the stairs up into the jet. "I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again, Detective. For now, _slân leat_."

"Good health to you, too," Danny said.

They stepped away as the trio boarded and the stairs folded up, the door locking with an audible thud. Standing by the hangar door, they watched it taxi so it was facing east. The engines whined and then it thundered down the runway. In a minute it was a speck in the azure sky.

Steve set his hand on Danny's shoulder. "She really killed Jeffrey for you?"

"Yep," Danny said, eyes still on the sky. The plane disappeared from view completely.

"You want to have a team waiting for her in New York?"

Danny shook his head. "Nope. She'll be back. And I'll be expecting her this time."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Steve finds out something troubling about his family history with Jerry's help.**

 **Don't worry guys, Shamrock will be back and I will continue to develop this storyline! I don't plan on leaving these loose ends unaddressed. And I'm slowly plodding along with the Western AU. My younger sister has come in from Virginia for her wedding this March, so if I'm scatter brained, that's why.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	98. Fact 85

**I found a lot of conflicting information, so I split the difference and hope it's sort of historically accurate.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #85: The most famous criminals in history are only famous because they were caught. The truly successful ones were those who were never captured.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

Steve looked his partner up and down. Danny stood in the front doorway dressed in casual clothes, appearing caught somewhere between relieved and relaxed, and dead on his feet tired. Steve felt the way his partner looked.

"I brought beer," Danny said, and held up a six pack. "You gonna invite me in or what?"

"You usually just barge in," Steve said. He stepped back to let him through and closed the door behind him. "I thought you were spending the day with Grace?"

Danny flapped a hand around absently as he put the beer in the fridge. "Well, she was supposed to come over today, but one of her friends invited some of the other girls over today so they can assemble all of their history projects for school as a group or something. Of course, she'd rather hang out with kids her own age instead of her old man."

"Sorry, bud," he said. "What about Mags?"

"Saw her off at the airport this morning," Danny said.

"She didn't even say bye."

"Get your feelings a little hurt, babe? She has a case she's been working on, and wants to keep an eye on what our Celtic friend is doing." Danny handed him a beer and took one for himself, switching the conversation from himself to Steve at the same time. "What about you? You spending your free day with Catherine?"

"No." He shook his head. "She's spending time with Kono out on the North Shore."

"Girls' day out, huh?" Danny asked.

Steve leaned against the kitchen counter, picking at the label on the bottle idly before taking a swig. "Chin called earlier about the resort footage."

"He's not supposed to be working," Danny said.

It wasn't like any of them cared they weren't officially supposed to be working while they were being cleared of any involvement in Jeffrey's murder. The Governor had ordered them to take the day off so IA could confirm they had nothing to do with it. Now they only hoped Shamrock hadn't somehow managed to implicate them.

"He either looked at it last night or this morning," Steve said. "There was a birthday party on the same floor, and a balloon happened to be in the way of the corridor camera."

Danny snorted. "Yeah, of course. A piece of tape over the lens would be too obvious, but a balloon? A balloon's so innocent, the security guard would think nothing of it."

Steve nodded. It was too coincidental. "He scoured the rest of the footage from around the resort. Nothing turned up."

"That's Shamrock for you," Danny sighed. He threw his arms out wide in a frustrated gesture. "Engineers everything down to the smallest detail. That's why we could never get anything on her other than a gut feeling."

"Commander?"

Danny lowered his arms and furrowed his brows. "Is that Jerry?"

Pushing off the counter, Steve tilted his head to the study and led the way. "He asked if he could do a family tree on me."

"Why?" Danny drawled, confused.

Steve shrugged. "He said he's trying to pinpoint when certain families moved to the islands. He also needed to get out of his mom's basement while she bug bombed."

"You're a big softie, you know that?" Danny nudged him. "I don't know how you went from stiff, emotionally stunted Navy Super SEAL who was so incredibly awkward around kids it was hard to watch, to gooey chocolate chip cookie that is wrapped around the finger of my daughter, but it happened."

He grinned. "You rubbed off on me."

"Hey, hey, I'm not a softie. I'm an approachable character."

"You're more like one of those cacti that looks soft and fuzzy, but is actually prickly."

"Thank you for that. It means a lot to me. I retract my remark about you no longer being emotionally stunted. You're emotionally and socially stunted, you great ape."

"I resent that remark."

"I think you mean you resemble that remark."

Jerry stared at the pair of them as they set foot in the study. "Are you guys like this all the time?"

"No."

"Yes."

Shaking his head at the conflicting answers, Jerry let it drop and moved onto whatever it was he wanted to tell Steve. "Thanks, again, for letting me hang here, Commander."

"No problem. And it's Steve."

"Right," Jerry said. He waved a hand over the mess of documents, photographs, and various other papers he had scattered on the desk in front of him. That didn't even include the boxes sitting on the floor around his feet. "I think I put together your tree as far back as the 1600s, at least on the McGarrett side. They kept a lot of records."

Steve preened momentarily. "What'd you find?"

"No, no, wait, let me guess," Danny said. "All Navy, right? Probably descended from the first caveman to take a raft out on the water, right?"

Despite the caveman comment, Steve couldn't help but beam proudly. "My dad was a cop, my grandfather was in the Navy, his father was in the Navy, and as far back as we can trace, the McGarrett men were in the Navy."

Jerry nodded along as he talked. His fingers darted through the papers with a shuffling sound until he found the desired one. He held it up. "You see this name?"

Danny squinted to read the photocopied document and the almost faded, scrawling name. "Rowland McGarrett?"

"Rowland Jonathan McGarrett," Steve said. "He was a Navy captain in the early 1700s, died at sea in 1715."

"Why do you know all of this? I don't even know my tree beyond my great grandparents on either side," Danny asked.

"I like to know where I came from," he said quietly. "Helps me honor people like my grandfather."

"Figures you come from a family of heroes. Must run in your blood," Danny said. He patted his shoulder.

"About that," Jerry said.

Steve scrunched his brows at him. "What?"

"I don't think Rowland McGarrett died in 1715," Jerry said.

Steve sat in the chair on the opposite side of the desk and Danny leaned against one of the filing cabinets. Jerry handed the photocopied paper to Steve and pulled a folder out of his backpack, sorting through the papers and selecting a sheaf.

"His ship's name was _The Blackmore Maiden_ ," Steve started. "It went down in a storm off the coast of North Carolina in 1715. Rowland McGarrett was thirty-four. He left a wife and a three year old son."

"Except, I don't think his widow Mary Ann told the truth in the letters she wrote to her son later in life," Jerry said. He drummed his fingers on the sheaf in his hands. "I think she didn't want anyone to know the truth."

"Which is?" Danny asked, motioning for him to get on with it.

"There _was_ a storm that October in 1715 off the coast of North Carolina." Jerry held out the sheaf of maps, letters, and reports all stapled together for Steve to look over. "But, _The Blackmore Maiden_ didn't sink. She resurfaced two months later."

"What?" Steve frowned at the papers and at the statement.

"She resurfaced under a different name near the Caribbean. Sugarcane plantation owners described it in detail. It was the same ship, only now she was known as _The Bloody Maiden_ ," Jerry said.

"So, what?" Danny flicked a hand out. "The ship got captured by pirates or something and renamed?"

"No," Steve breathed out as he intently examined one of the pages in the sheaf. "No. Are you sure?"

Jerry nodded slowly. "I thought it sounded familiar and too coincidental to be chance, and the more I cross examined the accounts and Mary Ann's letters, I'm sure of it. At least, eighty percent sure."

"What? What am I missing here?" Danny questioned.

"Rowland McGarrett went on the account," Jerry said.

Danny blinked and then looked at his partner for clarification.

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. "Rowland McGarrett turned into a pirate."

* * *

 _The waters off of the Province of South Carolina, 1717…._

The barque sliced through the ultramarine waters, her decks humming with activity. Her crew scurried around like ants over a dropped and long forgotten fruit, assessing her damage and repairing what they could while at sea, praying to whatever gods they had to make it to land before the next storm rolled in or before the pursuing frigate caught up. The only thing keeping them going at the moment were the facts that their much faster yet heavily armed sloop was undamaged and they were returning to their land base for a while.

Their run had been a good one. They were returning loaded down with sugar, rum, silver, weapons, and a few extra crew members. Many of the crew hadn't been thrilled with the idea of bringing the few surviving slaves with them, most of them instead wanting to leave them with the ship they had scuttled. The men, however, had already proved their worth with the ropes and cannons. The crew's complaining dropped considerably, though the muttered concern about the unidentified frigate at their starboard stern went around the men.

The Captain aboard the barque rubbed his eyes wearily. Between this one's crew and the sloop's crew sailing alongside them, he was going to go deaf.

"What should we do with a drunken sailor? What should we do with a drunken sailor? What should we do with a drunken sailor early in the morning?" That would be _The Bloody Maiden's_ crew crowing while tending to her wounds.

And from the sloop, _The Dragon's Howl_ , "Windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys. When the wind blows, we're all together, boys. Blow ye winds westerly, blow ye winds, blow!"

He was sure they were attempting to top each other with which crew could sing the loudest. He grunted. They could sing whatever they wanted however loud they wanted so long as they did their duties, otherwise they'd be singing "Blow the Man Down" if he or the Quartermaster caught them slacking. By nightfall they would be in port and they could squander their pay on booze and women. Until then, their hides belonged to him.

"Captain," the Quartermaster greeted.

"Mister Cullen," the Captain said.

The Quartermaster was a short, well-built man, with skin tanned from the sun and graying scruffy hair tucked under a tattered bandanna. He provided a fine contrast to the Captain, who was a tall man with dark hair that had been jaggedly cut with a razor blade and fell about his ears, with broad shoulders and a lithe frame. His face at the moment was an emotionless mask with gray flecked whiskers beginning to shadow it and storm blue eyes squinting in the strong sunlight.

"The frigate is drawing closer," the Quartermaster said.

"I am well aware," he said, his back to the other ship and his eyes on the crew.

The Quartermaster cocked a bushy eyebrow at him. "Rowland, she can't take another cannon volley. We'll lose the ship, the crew, and the loot."

At the blunt statement and use of his real name, because most everyone but a few knew him as Seadog, Rowland frowned and pivoted to his right, alighting on the frigate pulling closer by the second. They weren't within range to be fired upon, yet, but the unknown ship should be close enough to be identified now.

"Get her colors. Then we will decide the best course of action to take," Rowland ordered.

"Aye, Captain."

He narrowed his eyes at the billowing sails on the ship. If _The Bloody Maiden_ hadn't taken a series of cannonballs to her port side gunwale from the merchant ship, he would race her up to the frigate and seize it. Or scuttle it, depending on how heartily her crew fought for the ship. His ship's current condition put that plan to bed. The fact that it was one lone ship didn't put him at ease, either. Merchant and slave ships didn't steer toward ships such as his, nor did many other pirate or Navy ships travel alone. Privateers, perhaps.

"Jolly Roger sighted!"

The singing aboard the vessel ceased and a confused chatter erupted.

He made a split second decision. "Get her to port, Mister Cullen," Rowland shouted as he thundered down the steps off the quarterdeck.

"What're you doing, Captain?"

"What you've advised me many times to do." He shed his coat and dropped his cutlass and pistol on the deck, confident Cullen would care for them. He climbed atop the railing. "I'm facing the problem head on."

"Not quite what I meant, you stubborn fool."

He smirked and dove off the edge of the ship, hitting the water in a perfect dive with barely a splash. Under the surface of the waves, in the shimmering ribbons of light filtering through the water, in muffled and deep silence, he swam from the barque to the sloop on a single breath. Clear eyelids protected his eyes from the salty sting, only the beginning telltale sign of a beast wearing the skin of a human.

His head broke the surface at the sloop's side. Tangling his fingers in the rope netting the men had let down, he scaled her hull and landed on the deck with a thump.

"Bring her about, men!" he hollered.

The crew needn't be told twice. With the wind in their favor, they would come broadside along the pursuing frigate before she could get within range of _The Bloody Maiden_. While the other had more guns, the sloop could handle her own. She was swift and maneuverable, more so than the frigate flying the Jolly Roger.

 _The Dragon's Howl_ left her post alongside their main ship and crossed the rolling swells at a steady eight knots.

"You be wanting the colors raised, Cap'n?" the Quartermaster of the sloop asked.

"Hoist 'em high, boys," Rowland said.

As the black flag went up, Rowland analyzed the frigate. Something about her presence unsettled him. Perhaps she was in trouble, chasing them down in hopes of finding assistance, flying the Jolly Roger in a gamble that these two ships were also pirate vessels. Then again, a ship moving as quickly and evenly as she was didn't allude to her being in trouble or damaged.

The closer they drew, the deeper he frowned. The frigate had turned slow enough to miss. She was lining up to be broadside with them once they were close enough. She meant to attack.

"Steady, lads!" Rowland said. "Prepare the guns. Keep her out of the frigate's range, Mister Gandy."

"Aye."

A wall of roiling navy blue thunderheads had built up in the northeast in the wee hours of the morning and had followed them all day. Now, they provided an ominous backdrop to the approaching frigate.

It was the man in the crow's nest who cursed first.

"Bloody hell," Rowland hissed.

"Cap'n, we can't do this without the _Maiden_ ," Gandy shouted at him, recognizing the frigate as well.

The energy amongst the crew crackled like the lightning in the sky to the north. He knew why the lone frigate had been an eerie visage on the horizon. Plain as day, the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ stood before them.

"She means to seize the _Maiden_ ," Rowland said. He glanced up at Gandy on the quarterdeck. "We need to slow her down."

As soon as had he spoken, a volley of gunfire shattered the air. The frigate was attempting to get within range without altering her course toward _The Bloody Maiden_ too much. The sloop's crew grabbed their muskets and the Master Gunner began shouting out orders to the cannon crews.

Rowland rubbed a hand over his face. Did Blackbeard have any dragons in his crew? He couldn't recall. A Wyvern doing a strafing run over the sloop and the barque would end the battle rather quickly. While they weren't warships with gunpowder decks, they had plenty of tar and fat onboard as well as whatever ammunition they had left after their recent encounter with two merchant ships and a sugarcane plantation. A fire at sea was a sailor's nightmare.

He scowled at the imposing frigate. She was probably armed to the teeth.

"Keep her busy, Gandy. I'm going to slow her down," he said.

Diving over the edge again into the water, he gritted his teeth. He'd survived a mutiny attempt, three attacks by the Navy, several attempts on his life while on land, storms, fires, wounds of all kinds, and had yet to have his ship or his life taken from him. Today would not be that day.

The sails of the sloop had blocked the frigate's line of sight of him jumping overboard. Surprise would be his foremost tool. He popped up briefly to pull in one deep breath and shifted. Swimming under the shallow draught of _The Dragon's Howl_ and passing out from under her port side, waning light danced over his camouflaged scales before he was shadowed by the frigate's keel. Following the curve of her hull, he dove deeper under her, bumping his back against the barnacled wood to keep track of where he was in the darkened water. She needed careened after her long voyage.

He made his way up on her starboard side. Head barely breaking the surface, he looked her up and down. Her crew must have been on her port side facing the sloop. Not many people expected an attack from the water and thus had left this side unguarded.

With no ropes or netting to haul himself up, he resorted to digging his hooked claws into the wood. It was no easy task. Thrashing his flat paddle like tail, he thrust himself out of the water enough to grab onto the gunport with one webbed forefoot. The cannon was pushed away from the opening as it wasn't in use, allowing him to see inside the gundeck.

He counted five cannons manned by crews of three men, plus powder monkeys running the gunpowder from the magazine. All in all, about twenty men were present. Supposedly, _Queen Anne's Revenge_ was a forty gun ship, so why would Blackbeard only employ five cannons now? Perhaps he really had taken damage from some battle, or was running low on gunpowder after bringing her across the Atlantic.

The cannons bellowed and rocked back one after the other. He shifted into human form briefly to fit through the gunport, shifting back once he was in. The crews were so focused on the nerve wracking job of caring for the cannons they didn't notice him or his theft of a long burning match.

It was a powder monkey who cried in alarm first as he moved from the gundeck toward the magazine. Rowland reacted quickly, smacking him down with a foot the size of a man's head. The man crumpled to the floor, either unconscious or dead, leaving him to continue on his way hopefully before word got around. When he had been in the Navy, the powder monkeys had been young boys, but aboard pirate ships, they were unskilled crew members.

He swallowed thickly. He'd never liked the thought of children working on his ship, even as common as it had been in the Navy. At least Blackbeard followed the same code of not allowing children aboard.

Taking down another powder monkey with a swipe, he stepped into the magazine and realized he'd been right. The cache was nearly empty. What had Blackbeard been thinking attempting to take on two ships with little ammunition? He was baffled his crew hadn't impeached him from being captain if he made rash decisions like that.

"By Hell's fire!" the man in the magazine yelped upon seeing him.

He leapt forward, pushing him to the floor. The man rambled about demons and forgiveness while Rowland ignored him and lit the match. There wasn't much gunpowder to cause a big explosion, but there was always some on the floor and in the air. He tossed the match on one of the canvas bags for loading cannons and sprinted from the magazine. The man, after seeing what he'd done, scrambled up and ran shouting.

The cannon crews knew he was here, so his only way off the frigate was up.

A muffled boom rocked the ship just as he sprang onto the upper deck. Men yelled and cursed, cannons rolled, one even broke loose and took out two men in its path. He smirked.

Then they noticed him.

Musket balls splintered the deck around him. He weaved in and out of men, ropes, and masts, heading for the edge. In his peripheral he spotted Blackbeard himself on the quarterdeck aiming his pistol at him. Smoke trails from the long burning matches in his hair and his pitch black beard did indeed give him an intimidating appearance.

The shot clipped his shoulder just as he dove over the railing into the water.

Saltwater stung the wound and he could almost hear the panic of a fire in the magazine of the frigate as he swam back under her and toward his sloop. It was a long swim seeing as _The Dragon's Howl_ had been steadily pulling away to keep out of the frigate's range.

He barely hauled himself up onto her deck. Every muscle shook with adrenaline and exertion. Gandy's boots stepped into his line of sight from where his head was lying on the wooden planks.

"Orders, Cap'n?"

"Retreat," he said. Gandy barked them to the crew. "The _Maiden_ should get into port safely before the _Revenge_ recovers."

"Small explosion for a magazine," Gandy commented.

Rowland heaved himself to his feet, dripping water off his fins and whiskers. His multitude of sea blues and greens on his scales no longer blended in, instead popping out against the browns of the sloop, especially the yellow on his face and sporadically down his back and tail. Teeth poked out from his upper lip, some of them long and vicious.

"She was nearly spent of gunpowder," he said. He raised his head high, easily to a tall man's height.

Unlike the crew of _Queen Anne's Revenge_ , his crew took no note of a dragon on their decks. They'd long become accustomed to his presence, some of them being Drakes or Amphibians themselves.

"You best be seeing the surgeon about that crease on your shoulder once we're back on land," Gandy said, arms crossed over his chest and his head shaking.

Rowland craned his head around to look at it. It was nothing major. Disease and rot could settle in quickly while at sea, though dragons were more tolerant to it than humans. Unfortunately, they'd lost their only surgeon during their last battle. They'd have to recruit a new one.

"I'll have one check it."

Gandy nodded. The frigate had turned away from following them to lick her wounds and a calm mood had set in amongst the crew again. They resumed their singing and set about unloading the cannons as the sloop made her way back to the barque's side.

"You're not goin' to see the surgeon, are you, Seadog?" Gandy said.

Rowland fought to keep the grin down at the nickname and the question. His mind strayed to what waited for him on shore. "There's no time to be injured. I have a woman and a boy waiting for me."

* * *

 _Present day, Oahu…._

"The pirate known as Seadog captured several ships as prizes and had five in his fleet by the 1720s. They're not sure what happened to him, as he was never caught nor did anyone take credit for killing him. He just disappeared," Jerry said. He looked between Steve and Danny warily. "They say he was feared because he was a dragon. Several accounts described him as a leviathan raising from the seas to set ships ablaze like he tried to do to the _Queen Anne's Revenge_."

Danny set his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Hey, you okay? You look a little bit like someone sucker punched you."

Steve leaned forward on his elbows with his face cupped in his hands. "The McGarretts were always involved in honorable service."

"Ah." Danny nodded, knowing now what was eating at him. "And it's a bit of a shock to find out you're all descended from a pirate, huh?"

"He was a Navy captain. Why turn pirate?" Steve wondered aloud.

Jerry shuffled the papers in front of him uncertainly. "Are you familiar with any Seadog legends?"

Danny glared at him, willing him to keep quiet with his mind. Steve had always prided himself on being from a family of heroes, idolizing his grandfather, and to find out there was a notorious criminal in his family tree? It was a bit much for him. He didn't need bloody stories of his ancestor in his head at the moment.

"Or maybe I'll save those for another time," Jerry said, clearly catching the meaning of Danny's face.

Like it would do much good now. Steve would go look it up for himself.

"I'm sorry, Commander. I didn't realize…." Jerry trailed off.

"It's okay, Jerry," Steve said. He cleared his throat and stood up. "Not every family is completely full of good men."

Danny almost made a comment about his mom as an example, but swallowed it back. Steve didn't need his family's dirty laundry aired in front of Jerry, not after he'd found out the truth about Rowland.

"You know, most people would get a kick out of finding out they were related to a famous pirate," he said lightly.

"Or finding out they had a dragon in their lineage," Jerry added. "One research paper says based on accounts of Seadog's appearance, he was a full-blooded Amphibian and nearly six feet tall."

Danny side-eyed his partner. What would Jerry say if he knew Steve was a nearly seven and a half foot tall Arboreal/Amphibian crossbreed?

"You have any dragons in your tree?" he asked, diverting the attention away from Steve.

Jerry shook his head as he began to gather his papers together and place them in his backpack while digging out new ones. "Nah. I wish. Dragons are amazing. I'm even going to a convention in Denver next week to meet with a friend."

"Oh, is it that BeastCon thing Max is going to?" Danny asked.

"Yeah," Steve said. "Max is the ME for HPD."

"Sweet," Jerry said. "The funny thing about this friend I'm meeting, is that I had a snail mail thing going on with an elementary school friend in New York and my letter got lost somehow, but this other guy replied to it. I got his address and started writing to him."

"A conspiracy buddy of yours?" Danny asked, flipping one hand out.

"He knows a lot. Has traveled the world and stuff. I can't wait to meet him in person," Jerry said. He reminded them of an enthusiastic child.

"Well, just remember stranger danger," Danny quipped, though it wasn't without concern.

The pair left Jerry to continue mapping out Steve's family tree and went out onto the lanai with fresh beers. Walking to the shore and sitting in the Adirondack chairs there reminded Danny of when he'd first met Steve. He glanced over at his partner. The man looked contemplative.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he said.

Steve took a swig and set his bottle on the arm of the chair. He cast his eyes out over the ocean. "I don't know why it bothers me that Rowland was a pirate, but it does."

"You always thought one thing and then all of the sudden you were told it was wrong. Something like that can take a while to get over," he said, his hands making gentle swaying motions as he spoke. "So what if you had one bad egg in the tree?"

"It just got me thinking, what if what I know about my other ancestors is wrong, too?" Steve said.

"Hey, look at me," he said. He waited until his partner's dark storm blue eyes were on him. "Whatever they did doesn't matter. You're a hero and a good man. That's it. Understand?"

Steve smirked. "You think I'm a hero?"

Danny leaned back in the chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. "Don't start wearing a cape or anything, but yes. At least, in my daughter's eyes you're as close to a real life super hero as she's ever going to see."

"Don't sell yourself short, Danno," Steve said. "You're invincible in her eyes, remember?"

He grinned. They sat in the quiet for a while, just listening to the waves crash on the sand and a gentle breeze rustle the dense foliage around the backyard.

"What did your great grandparents do?" Steve asked.

Danny drained the last of his beer. "You know how you've got a pirate in your tree?"

Steve sat forward with interest.

"My pop's grandparents ran a speakeasy in the 1920s," he said.

"That's kind of cool."

"And," he held up a hand, "and, there may or may not have been a moonshine runner involved in the family business."

Steve stared at him. Danny stared back.

Steve stuck out a hand. "Well, don't leave me hanging!"

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Danny recounts a wayward ancestor of his who, according to his great grandfather, was the fastest thing on four wheels _and_ on four feet.**

 **The art page has sketches of Rowland on it!**

 **I'm planning a side character adventure for the week after next, so I hope you guys like that. Life's been crazy with my sister in town and I think I'm coming down with something. Bleh.**

 **Thank you for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! And thank you to all the guest reviewers I can't reply to directly! You're all amazing and awesome. :)**


	99. Fact 86

**Now for Danny's ancestral tidbit.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #86: Whether it was driving cars, running on foot, or flying, some dragons were speed demons.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

 _Somewhere in the Appalachian boondocks, 1934…._

Francesco Williams, better known as simply Frankie, didn't consider himself a coward by any means. Just look at what he did for a living. But this? This right here is why he was going to have gray hair by the time he was twenty in a few months.

"You're trying to put me through the windshield, I know it!" he shouted at the driver.

The car skipped over the dirt road on a hairpin turn, the Revenuer not terribly far behind them. With its newly tuned engine and well cared for parts, the dusty rose Ford Model B outpaced the government agent bit by bit. Shadows flashed over the hood in a dizzying dance as they tore through the trees on the back road in the middle of the afternoon that early autumn.

Frankie pressed his hands against the dash. "Hey, hey, slow down!"

"You want me to slow down or outrun the G-Man?" the driver questioned, purposely letting off the gas.

"If we roll the car and die, it doesn't matter either way," he said.

"Have some faith in me, baby," the driver said.

Frankie shot a glare at his wife. Lucille Williams, formerly Lucille Adler, was by far one of the last people he had expected to marry. He had had a crush on the pharmacist's daughter down the street from his mom and pop's business since he was five. This backcountry moonshine runner definitely wasn't sweet Connie O'Malley.

"I have faith that one day you're goin' to get me killed," he said.

"I love you, too," she smiled at him. "Now, shut up so I can drive."

The heavy car hugged the road and sent up a rooster tail of dirt and loose rocks as it shot out onto the better maintained main road. Frankie glanced over his shoulder. He couldn't see the Revenuer through the cloud of dust following in their wake. The government agent was sure to be on their tail again once he was on this flatter, straighter road. He faced forward again.

"Babe, that wouldn't happen to be another G-Man coming up the road from old Slater's place, would it?" he asked and waved a hand out at the long driveway they could see across the field from here.

"No?"

"Don't answer that with a question."

"Alright, alright. It looks like another G-Man," she conceded.

"He's going to cut us off up there," he said. "We'll be boxed in like a couple of rats."

Fortunately, they were both people who liked having a backup plan. Lucille took the car off the road into the shrubs to the right of them. She hopped out and Frankie slid into the driver's seat. This was the part that worried him. Lucille wasn't the girl he'd admired from a young age, but she was his whole world now. He had been eighteen when he'd gotten married, she had been twenty. A couple of young dopes hopelessly in love and supporting their families' respective businesses.

"Hey, be careful, babe," he said, leaning out the window.

She kissed him with scaly lips. "Don't go and wreck this car, huh? I'm not explaining to my pa how my city slicker husband got his favorite Ford wrapped around a tree. And, I'm definitely not explaining that to _your_ pa and ma."

"Men are better drivers than women, anyway," he said with a teasing grin.

She shook her head in exasperation and took off into the woods with the ten gallons of moonshine they were transporting strapped over her back with a handmade harness.

He drummed his fingers on the wheel, lighting a cigarette while he waited. He had the scales and a size advantage over his wife, but his wings were stunted, leaving him flightless, and to be honest, she knew this country a lot better than he did. And by god, she could beat him in a foot race while she was hogtied.

Smoke swirled away from his lips. He could hear the Revenuer closing in. The brakes on the other squealed and gravel pinged the bumper of the Ford. He frowned. Lawmen had no respect for automobiles.

"Out of the car, son."

He looked up at the agent. "What's the problem, Sir?"

"Step out of the car."

He held his hands up and stepped out, leaning against the smooth finish and pulling in another drag of his cigarette. "Where's the fire?"

"What're you doing stopped here on the side of the road?" the Revenuer questioned.

"Stopped for a smoke and a leak," he said.

"You have anyone with you?"

"No. Just me today. Makes for a lonely drive, I think."

The Revenuer narrowed his eyes at him. "Open the trunk."

"What for, Sir? I don't think you're going to find anything but dust and maybe an empty Coca-Cola bottle or two," he said, flapping one hand at the back of the car.

"Just open the trunk, son."

He huffed out a breath. "Whatever you say, Sir."

He popped the back open and stood to the side while the agent searched it. A curse flitted through his head when the agent pulled up the floor paneling and scoured the compartment hidden underneath it. Empty. At least he hadn't found the compartment in the back seat, though that one was empty as well. Too many hidden compartments and they started to get really suspicious.

Another car pulled up.

"Where are you headed?" the first Revenuer asked, scratching his head and closing the trunk.

"Down into the city to see my cousins," he said smoothly as the second Revenuer came crunching over. "They got some cars they want me to work on."

"Nothing?" the second Revenuer asked the first.

The first shook his head. He looked back at Frankie. "You see a car with two people come through here a few minutes ago?"

"You mean, a car driving like it had the Devil on its tail?" he asked. "It came through here heading east. Thought it was going to run me over."

He watched the indecision play on their faces. The Ford was semi-recognizable, but with no moonshine and no second person, it made it hard to convict him of anything. Finally, one of them jumped back in his car and took off.

The second Revenuer glared out at the trees. It was shrubby, though still had good visibility. It wasn't a very thick or dense grove. By the time he finished his cigarette and ground it under his heel, the Revenuer seemed to have decided he hadn't dumped any moonshine in the woods.

"Can I bum a smoke?" he asked.

Frankie nodded and produced one from his pocket. "You have a nice day, Sir."

The man didn't bade him goodbye, instead got in his car and drove away.

He waited until he could no longer see the car and the car could no longer see him. Getting back in the Ford, he started it and flipped it around to head back and take the side road.

Farther down the road and having caught the attention of the first Revenuer that had been on their tails, Lucille led him onto a rutty off shoot road. It didn't take a genius to figure out that a car would outpace her on a main road, but on an ill maintained side road, she could outrun the car.

Streamlined like a scaled race dog, her forelegs reaching out long and far in front of her, she blazed over the dirt despite the hundred pounds of cargo she was carrying. Every color of dead leaves streaked her diamond shaped scales, dark horns crowned her rectangular head, and her bright blue eyes flashed in excitement.

The thrill of running ceased abruptly when she caught sight of yet another Revenuer at the end of the side road she was on. They must have been out in a pack today, waiting for some dumb bootleggers to run moonshine in broad daylight. But she'd be darned if she was the dumb bootlegger to get caught doing it.

Peeling off to the right into the trees, she headed downhill. Revenuers could be persistent, but not enough to follow her off road. They'd have to take the long way around, and she could only pray and hope that Frankie was waiting at the third turn on the gentle switchback into the valley as planned.

The glass bottles rattled and clanked against each other. The slope between the first and second switchback was steeper than the rest and she had to almost sit and slide on her rear end so she didn't go head over heels.

"Come on, baby doll, come on," she muttered as she sprinted over the road and into the trees again.

Coming out onto the road by the third switchback and looking around frantically, she let out a most unladylike curse. Frankie wasn't there yet. Or the Revenuers had held him up. Hopefully they hadn't arrested him.

Sighing, she began her run back down the road. On a good day she could run without stopping. Of course, that was on flat ground without a hundred pounds of moonshine strapped to her. Taking it steady, she huffed and snorted and rounded the curve of the third switchback.

The crunch of wheels on the road appeared behind her.

Her steady run turned into a breakneck sprint and just as she was about to dash into the trees again, someone whistled at her.

"Hey, toots, need a lift?"

"Gah, Frankie! What're you trying to do, give me a heart attack, huh?" she snapped.

She yanked open the passenger side door, unceremoniously shed the moonshine harness, and gestured for him to go. After she finished hiding the bottles in the secret compartment in the back seat, she smacked the back of her claws across his bicep.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For not being where you were supposed to be! I had G-Men on my tail," she said.

"Great. Now you tell me," he huffed and looked over his shoulder.

The Revenuers were just rounding the second switchback.

"Get down," he said.

She curled up on the front seat as tightly as she could with her head resting on his lap. Once they hit the valley plain, they would be able to shake them until nightfall when they could finish their run uninterrupted.

"Hope your ma and pa like this batch," she said idly. "Pa threw some cinnamon sticks in it this time."

Frankie shrugged one shoulder. "People aren't real picky, you know? If it's cheap and tax free, they'll drink anything."

"But if you have better stuff, you get more return customers," she said. "Your brother Andrew tells me he wants to learn how to make moonshine."

"Oy." Frankie rolled his eyes. "Of course he does."

"What? You'd rather him play the saxophone like your brother George?" she asked.

"No. I'd rather him help Ma and Pop out with the speakeasy. At least George plays at the joint, gives it some atmosphere, you know?"

Lucille tilted her head to eye him. "And what do you think we're doing running moonshine into New Jersey? You don't call that helping out? No alcohol, no speakeasy."

"I know, I know," he said, patting her head. "I'm just saying. At least Tony wants to do something honorable, like fighting fires or something."

"Kid better have tough scales," she said. She smirked. "I seem to remember someone telling me they wanted to be a pharmacist."

"Found out cars are more fun to drive," he said. He glanced over his shoulder again and bared his teeth in a smile. Gripping the gear stick, he laughed. "Hold on, babe. The G-Men are about to play some cat and mouse with us."

* * *

 _Present day, Oahu…._

"James and Ruth Williams ran the speakeasy from 1923 until 1945," Danny said. "Frankie and Lucille ran moonshine from her family's still until 1943 when she found out she was pregnant. They hung it up after Uncle Rob was born in 1944. Then, two years later, they had Uncle Vito. And then, three years after him, they had my pa, Eddie."

Steve looked like a small child enraptured in his short story, his eyes wide and excited. For being such an emotionally and socially stunted man when he'd first met him, he often saw childlike qualities in his partner, which still surprised him for some reason.

"You have any pictures?" Steve asked.

Danny ran his fingers through his hair as he thought. "Uncle Rob or my pa might. I didn't bring any with me to Hawaii when I moved. I'll call my pa, see if he can send some over in a text or something. Ma will probably have to help him, of course, because he's got goofy thumbs like me."

Steve's grin melted slightly. "I wish my family was more stable like yours. Dad's gone, my mom's a spy, and I barely hear from Mary on the mainland."

"Trust me, the Williams Clan isn't as idyllic as it looks," Danny said, shaking his hands across each other in an X pattern. "You didn't see the Family Picnic of '96."

Steve squinted at him. Danny could hear the gears turning in his head.

"Wasn't May 18, 1996 the last time you puked?" Steve asked. "Like, actually puked? Not the molten slag stuff you cough up every once in a while."

"Yes." He nodded. He stood up and stretched.

"What? You can't just leave me hanging on that one, now," Steve objected and stood up, too.

"I can, and I will. It's a story for another time. Right now, I'm hungry, so let's either go get lunch or make some lunch or something," he said.

Steve exhaled heavily and followed his partner back up to the house. "No fair, Danno."

"Heard that."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", side character adventure! Jerry, Max, and Eric get into some trouble at BeastCon in Denver. Cue an old criminal informant, a vigilante, and snow.**

 **There is a sketch of Frankie and Lucille on the art page, check it out! You'll see where Danny gets his looks. ;)**

 **So, we've got pirates and moonshine runners. What next? Oh, and although next week is the 100th chapter, I'm doing anything special until Fact #100. I've got it planned out. Hehehehe...**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	100. Fact 87

**Sorry this started meandering. Notes as to possible reasons why at bottom.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #87: Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

This was not how he imagined his trip to Denver to BeastCon going. At all. His mom told him he worried too much and always planned for the worst. However, this time he was right. It wasn't so much a conspiracy that emerged from the shadows to get him, but dumb luck and a chronic case of wrong place, wrong time.

His fingers were frozen. They ached from the cold and from gripping the edge of the concrete bank above the river canal. The bank wasn't a ninety degree angle, but it was steep enough to make it challenging to pull himself up it. Not to mention he had Max holding onto one leg to keep from plunging into the icy river below.

Jerry tilted his head side to side, looking at the water. The river itself wasn't very deep in the winter. Had it been summertime, it would have been deeper but warmer. Tonight, the air was dropping below freezing, ice sheathed the water in a glittering cover, and itty bitty snowflakes fell from the sky in dizzying swirls. It was too cold for big, fat flakes. And it was much too cold to risk dropping into the water and getting wet, because then they'd surely suffer from hypothermia.

"Jerry, can you pull yourself up at all?" Max asked.

Jerry sighed. He was barely holding onto the ledge as it was. "I don't think so."

For a river that flowed through a populated section of Denver, there weren't many people out and about. Their initial cries for help had gone unheeded. It had to be the weather and the time of night. Who in their right minds would be outside, anyway? Oh, yeah. Them.

Jerry pulled a deep breath in. Come on. He could do this. Grunting, he forced his arms to tug his weight uphill, dragging Max up with him. They got a smidge before his shaking arms gave out. Though it felt like his hands were permanently formed to the shape of the ledge, one hand slipped and they jerked down precariously.

"Whoa!" Jerry yelped.

His right arm strained, pain interweaving in the muscle fibers and his fingers cramping. He couldn't reach to get a grip with his left hand again.

"I have an idea. It is not a very good one, and I would rather not have to do it, but it might prove successful," Max said.

"I'm all ears," Jerry said. His fingertips barely touched the edge of the ledge.

"I will let go and you may be able to pull yourself up without the extra weight."

"What? No! That water's freezing down there. You'll get too cold," Jerry objected.

"If you pull yourself to safety, you can go get help before I develop hypothermia."

"No, no. Just hold on," Jerry said. His right pinky slipped. The concrete bit into his fingers as they scooted across the ledge.

"Both of us in the water will not do either of us any good," Max said.

Jerry opened his mouth to object again, but the sound of footsteps crunching over the snow on the ground gave him pause.

"Someone's coming," he said. "Hold on, Max. Hey! Over here! We need some help!"

The person quickened their pace. Jerry could've laughed in relief when a face peeked over the edge at them, but an anxious murmur was what he made instead. It was a dragon's face looking at them.

* * *

 _Yesterday…._

Jerry didn't travel often. He barely left Oahu. Barely left Honolulu. Barely left his neighborhood. But he had been wanting to go to BeastCon for years. Well, truth be told, he'd rather go to DragonCon or Comic-Con in San Diego, but beggars can't be choosers. The fact that he had a chance to meet up with his snail mail pal while in Denver was a motivating factor, too.

Thus, he had packed his bags, boarded a plane, and flown to the Centennial State with white knuckles. Coming over the Rocky Mountains to the eastern plains had been a ride worthy of bull riders everywhere. Bizarrely, he had met the Commander's friend in Honolulu at the airport. Max had been two rows ahead of him on the flight to LA, and then one behind him to Denver. He couldn't help but notice the medical examiner also had a white knuckled grip on the arms of the chair.

"I believe I would rather take a boat home," he had commented as they deplaned.

Feeling a bit of familiarity with Max, he felt safe catching an Uber with him to their hotels. Jerry was about to be really weirded out when Max got out at the same hotel as him and started to wonder if their rooms were next to each other, but Max had ended that with stating he was in the hotel across the street.

"You want to meet up and head to the Coliseum together?" Jerry had asked.

Max had blinked slowly, considering his offer. "I suppose it would save both of us money if we carpooled."

It was only when they arrived at the Coliseum that Max relaxed and Jerry saw in him a kindred spirit.

Food vendors were set up outside despite the weather. Jerry shivered just looking at the people crowded around on picnic tables. They must be crazy or hardy. He zipped up his jacket.

"Have you attended DragonCon?" Max asked, breaking his slightly standoffish silence.

Jerry shook his head as they waited in line on the front steps of the Coliseum for their badges to be checked. "I think it would be cool to go there. They have a lot more booths and panels than this one."

"Indeed. I attended last year. The lead scientist of Chimera Labs was at a panel and I got to speak with her personally afterward. The research they do with dragon genetics is enthralling," Max said. He tucked his hands under his arms. "It is also warmer in San Diego."

"Was there anything specific you wanted to see here? Or are you just going to wander through the booths?" Jerry asked.

"Professor Richard Grimes is going to have a booth here this year. I hope to get the chance to speak with him on the nature of the fossil remains his team uncovered in Utah last spring," Max said. "Are you looking to attend any specific panels or booths?"

Jerry nodded and played with the smooth laminate over his badge. "I want to go to the Dragons in History panel. They're featuring the Firebird this year."

"I also hear they are going to speak about George Vandilan," Max said, his brows furrowing in thought. "Perhaps I will attend that panel with you."

"I'm also meeting a friend here tomorrow," Jerry said.

He proceeded to detail how he had come to make this friend via misplaced letters and conspiracy theories. By the time he was done with his tale, they had been checked to make sure they had no backpacks or other bags, and then had been admitted into the Coliseum and surrounded by people from all walks of life. Booths lined the outer walkway that ringed around the main arena, everything from artists to historians to people involved in show business to scientists to herbologists had tables and displays with a heavy focus on all things dragon and beasts, from the mythical kaiju to the real but long dead Megalodon.

"Whoa," Jerry breathed out.

Max was not as blown away as Jerry, but looked excited nonetheless. A grin brightened his face. "The Dragons in History panel does not start until three this afternoon. Where would you like to go first?"

Jerry checked his watch. They had about half an hour before the panel started. Bags weighed on one arm, containing two shirts, a print from a local artist, a book on prehistoric dragons, and a piece of jewelry for his mom. Supposedly, the metal had been forged with Wyvern's fire and the gleaming jewel was actually a dragon scale. The scale was the same color as the ones visible on the jeweler's arm, so he was inclined to believe her when she said it was real.

Max was animatedly conversing with an old friend from college he'd bumped into at a booth about oddities dragged up from the ocean, which covered not only dragon related oddities, but strange creatures such as sleeper sharks and giant squid, as well.

A hand suddenly clapped him on the back.

"Well, you two weren't that hard to find."

He turned and stared wide-eyed at the man now standing beside him. Not very tall, mid-twenties maybe, wearing a hoodie and jeans, and looking at Jerry with a raised brow.

"What?"

"I don't think we've met," Jerry said slowly.

The man held out a hand. "Eric. Eric Russo. My Uncle D told me to keep a look out for Max over there, and said a man resembling a bear might be with him."

He'd been called worse things than a bear. With his curly dark mane, beard, and his overall size, bear would be an apt descriptor. Though, he would prefer teddy to be in front of it.

"Your Uncle D?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Detective Williams. He's my uncle," Eric explained. He gestured between him and Max in a move that Jerry immediately recognized as belonging to Danny. He really was his nephew. "So, what're you two doing, huh? I've already done my exploring yesterday and this morning."

"We're going to a panel down in the main arena at three," Jerry said. "Dragons in History."

"History was definitely not my strong suit in school," Eric said. "I went to a science panel yesterday. Raking in those extra credit points for my class."

"Class?"

"Future forensic scientist, baby." Eric waved a hand, encompassing himself from head to toe.

It was at this point Max finally turned around from his conversation with his friend and noticed Eric. "Oh, hello. You are Detective Williams' nephew, correct?"

After reintroducing himself and chatting for a few minutes, he accompanied them into the main arena. A few displays were set up on the main floor, one of them being a live Drake showing off his scales for those who were unfamiliar with dragons, while a long table with a couple of scholarly looking people sitting at it was placed at the other end of the arena near where the bucking chutes were during rodeos. The foldout chairs in front of the table were partially filled already.

Jerry and Max sat with rapt attention during the whole panel. They even got to ask questions directed toward various professors and historians at the table. Of course, Jerry had to ask what they thought of the Firebird's skeleton being found in a cave on Oahu back in early fall.

"The probability of the skeleton recovered being the Firebird is unlikely," one of the men said.

"But," a woman cut in, "with the location of its discovery and the treasure found alongside it being taken into consideration, most historians and archeologists have accepted the skeleton as belonging to her."

The divide at the table was clear. Half thought the skeleton Jerry himself had helped find was the Firebird, and the other half denied it was her.

Sighing, he sat back down and glanced over at Eric. He was texting on his phone.

"What do you think?" he asked, wondering if he had even been paying attention to anything at all.

"The skeleton is a real dragon skeleton covered in gold rings and chains with three gold teeth found in a cave worthy of Indiana Jones. And there was an empty rum cask there. Everyone knows the Firebird loved her rum. Who else could it be but her?" Eric said while never taking his eyes off the message he was typing out on his screen. Jerry was amazed he knew as much as he did for insisting history wasn't his passion. Eric glanced up at him. "You guys feel like getting dinner or something afterwards? Not like a giant turkey leg or flat beer from the vendors outside. It's no fun bumming around a city by myself."

When the panel ended it was nearing five o'clock, and Jerry concurred it was time to eat. Max agreed to come, too. He had opened up and relaxed considerably during the day.

The light was failing outside, not helped by the ceiling of thick, ashen clouds looming overhead. Flecks of snow fluttered through the air at irregular intervals, chased around through the sky by random currents of icy wind. The walk to the main street to catch their Uber was miserable. At least, for Jerry and Max it was.

"Dude, are you not even cold?" Jerry asked, wishing he had brought a scarf and gloves.

Eric shrugged. "I'm from Jersey. When it decides to get cold there, it's a wet, chill you to the bone kind of cold."

A woman jogged by them in leggings and a t-shirt with a backpack over her shoulder.

"But I'm not that nuts," Eric commented and pointed at her as she disappeared around a building corner.

"People in cold climates often acclimate to them and have a higher tolerance for the cold," Max said. He shivered and flipped the collar on his jacket up to keep the snowflakes from going down the back of his neck. "Many dragons such as Drakes, Cliffs, and Wyverns also tolerate the cold better than their human and other type counterparts."

Jerry wished he had a bit of dragon in him at the moment. He had planned for cold weather, thus the lighter inner jacket and the heavier outer coat as well as the earmuffs. He just should have planned more extensively.

A scream around the corner made them jump.

They raced toward the building and turned the corner. The streets here by the stockyards were such a tangled mess with several entrances and exits that there weren't many people around in this section to have heard the scream except for them.

The woman that had jogged by earlier was sitting on the ground and a man was hauling butt in the opposite direction with her backpack.

"Help! He stole my backpack! It has all of my stuff in it," she sniffed and wiped her running nose on the back of her hand.

Max bent down to check her over while Eric took off after the man. Jerry waffled between staying or going, and instead pulled out his phone to call the police. He wouldn't be much help in a foot chase, nor did he know anything about injuries, so this was his useful contribution.

He had 911 dialed and was about to press call when a section of the brick building down the street peeled away and landed on the thief, wrestling the backpack away from him.

Jerry's eyes widened.

That wasn't a section of bricks, it was a Drake with the same coloration. It must have been perched on the building, lying in wait.

The Drake secured the backpack and the thief ran off. Eric, who Jerry could tell was stunned just by his posture, didn't give chase again. The Drake trotted down the sidewalk toward the woman with its chest puffed out. Jerry stepped aside to let it through.

"Here you go, ma'am," the Drake dropped the backpack next to the woman.

"Oh my god." The woman covered her mouth with her hands. "You're Parkour! That vigilante guy that takes on muggers and stuff!"

The Drake beamed, brilliant white teeth flashing in his maw. Jerry couldn't take his eyes off of him. A vigilante? Parkour? It was like a comic book character had crawled right off the page and stood before him. Well-kept brick red scales patterned over his muscles and black nubby horns crowned his head. Though he stood no taller than Max, he looked like a powerhouse.

Eric and Max didn't look nearly as impressed.

"Parkour?" Eric echoed.

"Parkour's the name, and parkour's my game," the Drake said.

Jerry's awe slipped a little and gave way to a touch of suspicion. Maybe he was too much like a comic book character. This guy was a bit of a cheeseball.

"Thank you so much!" the woman said and threw her arms around his neck. She seemed to have no misgivings about him.

"No thanks needed, ma'am. Just doing my job," the Drake said.

Oh, yeah. Total cheeseball.

Parkour narrowed his eyes at the security guard Max had flagged down. He backed up, pulling out of the woman's embrace, and took off away from the scene. True to his name, he jumped a chain link fence and scaled a building. Within moments he was out of sight.

The security guard unclipped his radio with a weary sigh. "This is Smith in Section C9. We've got another sighting of the Parkour guy. He's headed east away from the stockyards, going over the buildings again. Over."

" _Understood. Do you require assistance? Over."_

The guard glanced around at them. "Anybody hurt?"

They all shook their heads.

"No, everyone's fine. I'll get statements. Over," the guard said. He clipped his radio back on his belt and took out a small notebook and pencil. "Alright, which of you wants to tell me about your encounter with the local menace first?"

* * *

Max and Jerry had discussed the convention and the Parkour dragon throughout most of dinner that night at Applebees with limited input from Eric. It wasn't until he grinned goofily and laughed that Jerry finally asked who he was texting.

"My friend Jessa," he said. "Her buddy just sent me a funny pic of her and now she's trying to explain her way out of me holding it over her head until the end of time."

"Is she your girl–"

"Oh no," Eric said, and Jerry realized he wasn't talking to him. He was staring at his phone. "No, no, no, no."

"What is it?" Max asked.

Eric tossed his phone on the table. "Battery died."

"Max and I were talking about that vigilante Drake today. What do you think?" Jerry asked, happy that Eric had nothing better to do than be involved in the conversation.

"Think about what?" Eric asked.

He finished off his third beer, much to Max and Jerry's bewilderment. At this elevation they could barely finish theirs. Well, Max could barely finish his cocktail and Jerry had stuck to Sprite. Still. He was barely acting affected by the alcohol.

"Do you think he's a hero or a menace?" Jerry asked, watching him set the empty glass on the paper coaster with a thud.

Eric shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he's trying to be helpful, but a lot of the time, they're just glory seekers, you know? They think that since they've got a bit of a secret identity and power as a dragon, they can be a superhero. And then they cause more harm than good, like this Drake back in Jersey my Uncle D had to arrest. There was a string of thefts in one suburb and a Drake started staking out the houses at night, but screwed up. He caught two guys, beat them up, almost got himself shot, and on top of that, he actually interfered with a police investigation. Uncle D and his partner had been tailing these thieves hoping they'd lead them to the rest of the ring."

"So…you think he's a menace?" Jerry clarified.

"I'm just saying, just because you can, doesn't mean you should. That is a lesson I've learned the hard way," Eric said and leaned back in the booth. "But, he did get that lady's backpack back."

"He also allowed the mugger to get away," Max added.

The conversation shifted from the pros and cons of vigilantism to their plans for the next day. Eric had a three day pass and would be there, though he said he'd already done his exploring and seen what he wanted to see. It was Max and Jerry's last day, it was also the last day of BeastCon, so they wanted to make sure they saw everything there. There was a panel in the morning they wanted to attend, one on why certain plants could only thrive when grown by dragons, and another on the history of dragons in the movie business.

"I'm supposed to meet my friend at the war booth tomorrow around eleven in the morning," Jerry said.

"You ever met this guy before?" Eric asked as the waiter brought their checks back to the table. He tucked his card in his wallet and slid out of the booth.

"No, not in person. We've been writing letters for months, though," Jerry said, feeling a bit of déjà vu from what Steve and Danny had told him.

"Stranger danger," Eric said, just like his uncle had.

They walked out of the restaurant into the cold Rocky Mountain air. Max called their Uber while Eric and Jerry puffed foggy breaths into the snowflake flecked air. Jerry shifted back and forth on his feet, quickly deciding they should have stayed inside until their Uber arrived.

"Man, every city's the same," Eric commented.

Jerry looked at him and then followed his gaze across the street to the guy partially hidden behind a lamp post. Shady would have been an appropriate word to describe him.

"You get hookers, bums, and sketchy people. Every city. They're all the same," Eric said.

The hairs on Jerry's arms prickled once he was able to discern through the shadows that the man was watching them. What did he want? Money? What was he doing on the street in the dark and cold? The way he seemed overly interested in them made Jerry swallow. He would appreciate having the Commander standing next to him right about now.

A mini van pulled up next to the curb.

"Max?" the driver asked as the panel door slid open.

They piled in. As they rolled away from the restaurant toward the hotels, Jerry cast a glance over his shoulder out the back window.

The man was standing in the middle of the street, watching them drive away.

* * *

The next morning, after having not been murdered in his hotel room in the middle of the night, Jerry was more relaxed and not as worried about the man. Eric was right. He had probably been some kind of bum. A creepy bum, but a bum. A harmless, creepy bum.

He met Eric in the lobby, because they actually were in the same hotel, and caught a ride with him to the Coliseum. They met Max just inside the doors at one of the artist booths.

"You want to come with me to wait for my friend?" Jerry asked.

"I am going to see if I can locate Professor Grimes," Max said.

Jerry looked at Eric.

"Yeah. Sure. Why not," Eric said. He nursed on his coffee as they walked the loop around the arena to the other side.

Jerry did a double take on a man standing by one of the booths. He frowned, but continued walking. As they walked by the jewelry booth where he'd gotten his mom her necklace, he peeked around again.

"Who do you keep looking at?" Eric asked finally.

"You know that guy from last night?" Jerry said, keeping his voice low and acting like everything was normal.

"The waiter?"

"No. The guy across the street."

"The bum?"

"I think I just saw him," he said.

Eric blatantly stopped to look behind them much to Jerry's consternation. He hitched his shoulders up and held his hands palms up.

"I don't see a big, tall, creepy guy following us. How would a bum get in, anyway? These passes weren't cheap," Eric said.

Jerry looked around, dismayed that he could no longer see the man, if he had ever been there to begin with. Sighing, he started forward again.

"Hey, don't feel bad. Usually it's a good thing when you don't have a stalker," Eric said.

"I know. I just could've sworn I saw the same guy," Jerry said.

They made it to the other side of the Coliseum where the more historical booths were. Eric took a small detour to one with a display of a dragon skull alongside a dinosaur skull. Jerry was a bit surprised. He didn't peg Eric as the prehistoric nerd type. Then again, maybe he wasn't. He was showing the proprietor of the booth something off his phone.

Leaving him to finish his conversation, Jerry moved down two tables to the one with several black and white photographs of dragons during WWI and WWII. There were several medals protected behind glass, an old harness the Wyvern Gunners would use, and a replica of the first crude Dragon Slayer round.

He scanned the people around the booth. There was the old man behind it, two teenagers checking out the bullet display, a woman talking to the old man, and a short, portly man with glasses settled low on his nose. Jerry nodded to himself. The portly man had on a dark coat like he said he would.

Before he could step towards him, a hand clasped his shoulder.

Jerry turned. His mouth went dry and his pulse hammered at seeing the tall, looming man. The wary sage green eyes. The dark hair. The iron grip on him.

It was the man. The man from the street.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Jerry gets the crap scared out of him and the guys uncover a fraud, meet a dragon or two, and almost get hypothermia.**

 **Uh...the chapter next week may go up on Wednesday. We'll see. It's up in the air right now. I just wanted to let you guys know that if there isn't one Tuesday, it'll be there Wednesday. Sorry if that bums you guys out.**

 **So, with my sister in town and her wedding next weekend, my writing time has been limited. Plus, there was an earthquake. No joke. There's never be an earthquake here and I've never experienced one. That rattled me. No pun intended.**

 **Thank you guys for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	101. Fact 87 Part II

**Sorry this is getting out late. Apparently, I can't do short chapters anymore. *sigh***

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #87: Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

 **Part II**

The portly man wandered right on by the booth, leaving Jerry with the man from the street. Of course, the rational side of his brain was reasoning the stranger wouldn't kill him in an area so crowded with witnesses while at the same the more paranoid side of his brain was filing through a litany of reasons someone would want him dead. He knew a lot of things. Things the government wouldn't want him to know. Was this a hitman?

"Mr. Ortega," the stranger said, an East European accent coloring his words. "You look like someone's about to murder you."

The stranger knew his name. But then again, what were the chances he would see the same stranger last night across from the restaurant and again today unless he knew who he was, and was following him?

"What organization sent you?" Jerry asked lowly, trying to remain nonchalant and willing Eric to hurry up.

The hand slid off his shoulder. "Ah. The cabals of the shadows would certainly hate it if two truth seekers were to put their minds together."

Jerry's face slackened before his brow furrowed. He took another hard look at the man.

He was tall. Jerry would guess around 6'4" or 6'5" with a build that was neither wafer thin nor buff and broad. In fact, he reminded him of a tree. An eerie, Tim Burton-esque tree, anyway. Dark hair swept to the side of his stubbled face. He had a wariness about him, a kind of stiff and watchful posture. As Jerry examined him, the man clasped his hands behind his back, pulling his long dark coat open enough to reveal the long sleeve black shirt underneath.

"Two minds shining enough light on the shadows is sure to chase them away and reveal the truth underneath," Jerry finally said. "You're X?"

"I prefer Xander, but yes. I sign most things simply X," the man said. His gaze darted around the booths briefly before returning to Jerry. "Did Mr. Russo and Dr. Bergman accompany you today?"

"Man, when you scout out a meeting, you don't do it partway, do you?" Jerry said. "You about gave me an ulcer last night."

Xander grunted. "People aren't always who they say they are. I like to be sure."

Jerry nodded in understanding. He could get behind that. He was the same way, though he had let his guard down somewhat in the midst of his excitement for BeastCon.

"They're both here today," he said.

"Yes. I see Mr. Russo over there," Xander said. Pulling himself taller, if that was even possible, he gestured to the doors into the arena. "Perhaps we can sit down. I have something to show you."

* * *

Eric eventually found Jerry after spending thirty minutes looking for him. He couldn't give him a heads up on where he was going? He shook his head. He was starting to sound like his uncle, whom he loved very much, but who could also mother hen someone to death if allowed. Jerry was a grown man. He was not Eric's responsibility.

And yet, when he finally found Jerry sitting in the arena a few rows up from the middle with an intimidating man on the concrete steps beside him, the man Eric was sure was the very same bum from the street last night, he felt one-part relief, one-part surprise, and one-part suspicion.

"Thanks for ditching me," he said as he climbed up the steps.

"Sorry, Eric. This is my friend Xander, the one I exchange letters with," Jerry said.

Eric's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Maybe he was mistaken. Maybe the man wasn't the bum from the street. "You guys trading conspiracy theories like baseball cards or what?"

Jerry held up a sheaf of papers too quickly for Eric to see what was even on them. "Things going on in our respective cities that don't make it to the news."

Eric perched in an edge seat on the opposite side of the stairs. "Sounds super exciting."

"You would be surprised what kinds of things fly under the radar, so to speak," Xander said.

Eric recognized his accent as Croatian, only because his high school had been a melting pot and one of the only reasons he'd passed his government class was because of Garcia, a Croatian boy who had taken pity on him and let him copy his homework half of the time. They'd been pretty good friends, hanging out and skating on the weekends.

"Things like faking the moon landing?" Eric asked with barely contained humor.

"Things like no one knowing they attempted to send dragons into space before humans," Jerry said offhandedly as he perused the papers he was holding.

That gave him pause. "Are you for real?"

"Oh, yeah, dragons have been the center of a lot of scientific research through the centuries," Jerry said.

"A lot of it involuntary and inhumane," Xander added darkly.

"Huh," Eric said.

He glanced around the arena. There was another panel going on at the main floor and the same Drake from yesterday showing off his scales. Eric lifted a brow, comparing his own chocolate brown and white scales with their polished smoothness to the Drake's rough and dead grass colored scales. He should see if he could find some kind of guide to coloring on dragons. How rare certain colors or color combinations were, common patterns and markings, scale shapes and textures, etc. A book like that might actually come in handy for his forensic classes, even if the main classes mostly focused on humans. He was taking a dragon specific class for his science credit, though.

Just as he was about to get up and tell Jerry he'd catch him later, a couple walking around the main walkway of the arena caught his eye.

It was the woman who had had her backpack nearly stolen yesterday.

He frowned. "Hey, Jerry."

Jerry hummed in question without looking up.

"Dude," Eric said, a little more insistently. Jerry looked at him. "Am I mistaken, or is that chick down there hanging out with the guy that tried to grab her backpack?"

Jerry swiveled his head, eyes bouncing around the people in the arena before landing on the couple in the next section of seating. His face contorted into a contemplative one.

"That does look like the guy," Jerry said with a nod.

"Thought so," Eric said.

The woman was in leggings and a t-shirt again, sans backpack. The man with her had on a camouflage hoodie and a ballcap, but Eric would give testimony in court that it was same guy who had tried to take her backpack the day before and who had been tackled by Parkour the Drake.

Speaking of Parkour, as Eric stared at them, another man joined them and planted a kiss on the woman's cheek. He had on a graphic tee with some comic book character on it and skinny jeans with holes in the knees. His hair was also Kool-Aide dyed an unnatural red. All three of them looked to be in their early twenties.

If the camouflage hoodie guy was the mugger, the woman the supposed victim, what were the chances the faux redhead was Parkour himself?

A smile flickered across Eric's face, rather proud to have put all that together by himself. It was replaced by a scowl. Parkour definitely wasn't a hero, not if the whole thing had been a setup.

"What do we do?" Jerry asked.

Eric looked across at him. Jerry must have come to the same conclusion. "I dunno. We can't just turn him over. We don't have any proof he's Parkour. And the lady didn't even want to press charges against the mugger."

Xander passed a phone to Jerry. "It seems this Parkour has quite the following of locals."

"Whoa," Jerry breathed out as he scrolled. "Xander's right. This guy is popular here. He's got over seven thousand followers on Facebook. There's even a GoFundMe page for him."

Eric rolled his eyes. "Not cool. This guy setup a fake mugging to what? Get followers? Money? How many of his so-called rescues do you want to bet are fake?"

Xander took the phone back. "At least three involve a woman matching her appearance and another five match the other man's appearance."

"It's vigilantes like him that give the real ones a bad name," Jerry said.

Eric pulled his own phone out of his pocket. "You know, I bet if we got a picture of him in Drake form with those two, we could post it and give a few of his followers a shock."

"And start a social media war?" Jerry asked. "I don't really do social media."

"I also do not get involved in matters like this," Xander dusted his hands off as if to show he was clean of the issue.

"Come on, guys. Isn't this the kind of conspiracy you usually want to prove is right? A hero revered by many is actually a fraud?" Eric asked.

Xander shook his head firmly, but Jerry took a moment before bobbing his head in a small nod.

"But we should go find Max first," Jerry said.

Eric shrugged and stood up. He kept an eye on the trio as they made their way around the arena, chatting without a care in the world. He wasn't sure what possessed him to reveal Parkour for a fake, but now he was locked onto it. It would add a little excitement to his life. With Jessa in Australia, he was sorely lacking in the adrenaline department.

What was the worst that could happen, anyway?

* * *

Apparently, the worst that could happen was nothing. Absolutely nothing. As in, they followed the trio around for the better part of the day without anything to show for it. They followed them to the vendors outside and got lunch while they were at it. They followed them around the booths again. Around the arena. All the while attempting to leapfrog them. Eric had heard his uncle mention it as a tailing tactic to keep suspicions down, but they weren't cops. The only saving factor was that the trio were oblivious to them and everyone else around them.

"Perhaps two setups at the same convention is too suspicious," Xander said from where he was leaning against a wall across from the booth the trio was standing around.

Eric rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, maybe. But glory hounds, they jump at any chance they get. It's an addiction."

It was the two of them left, as Jerry and Max had begged off to go see their movie star dragon panel. Eric checked the time on his phone. It was nearing five. It was fairly dark outside, which was normal for the northern hemisphere in winter. Their panel should be wrapping up and then the convention would shut down at six. Already a few booths were packing up.

"Should probably get something to eat and head back to the hotel," Eric commented. "I've gotta catch an early flight back to Jersey in the morning."

Xander nodded. He dismissed himself quietly. Eric waited against the wall for a while longer. Finally, in the direction Xander had walked off, he spotted Max and Jerry walking towards him after Jerry bid his friend farewell.

"Guys, I've gotta call it a night," Eric said with a tilt of his head at the trio. "I've got a six o'clock flight."

"I am inclined to agree," Max said. "My flight leaves at seven thirty."

"I'm on the same flight," Jerry said. He sighed. "So much for proving Parkour isn't who he says he is. Or, at least, isn't as heroic as he seems."

"He'll screw up someday and get himself caught," Eric said.

They headed out of the Coliseum into the cold night air and into the snow falling from the sky in pebbles. It wasn't really hail but could barely be considered snow. Eric pulled out his phone to call the Uber, dismayed to see the battery was already at ten percent.

"Where do you guys want to eat tonight?" Eric asked as he summoned their ride.

Jerry and Max were both curled inward to preserve body heat in the biting breeze drifting between the buildings.

"That noodle place by the river sounded appetizing last night," Max said.

Eric squinted one eye in thought. He sort of remembered seeing a sign for the place when they had gone to Applebees. Honestly, he would pretty much eat anything so long as it didn't come on a stick or deep fried. As much as he loved his junk food, after eating it for lunch and snacking on it through the day, he could go for some teriyaki beef noodles with eggrolls.

Drool puddled in his mouth.

"Sounds awesome to me," he said.

Eric shifted from one foot to the other to keep warm while they waited. A steady stream of people were leaving the Coliseum, heading out to go home, to hotels, to dinner, and drinking. Checking his nearly dead phone again, he grunted. It had barely been two minutes. The Uber said they wouldn't be there for at least ten.

"Oh, shoot," Jerry said.

"What?" Eric asked.

"I forgot to go pick up that picture from the counter," he said. Seeing Eric's confusion, he clarified, "They had a professional photographer taking pictures of Iglesias Cortez with the public. I got one, but forgot to go pick it up."

Eric eyed the time. "Think you can get back here before the Uber gets here?"

"If not, go ahead and take it. We will meet you at the noodle place," Max said.

Eric shrugged as the pair headed back toward the Coliseum against the flow of people. Hopefully they would be back before the Uber left.

* * *

Jerry tugged Max's arm as they traveled back down the steps out of the Coliseum. His heart pounded in excitement.

"Look," he said, and pointed. "There's Parkour and his accomplices."

Heading away from the main exit of the stockyards and toward one of the side exits where the supposed mugging had happened yesterday, the three people were far more cautious about being conspicuous this time. Jerry had barely caught them out of the corner of his eye.

"We should follow them," he said. "This might be our chance to get a picture of Parkour with them and expose him for a fraud."

"Or perhaps we should let them get hoisted by their own petard without any interference from us," Max suggested.

"It's cool if you don't want to go, but I want some photographic evidence," Jerry said.

It wasn't but a few moments later that he sensed Max following him in the trio's direction. It also wasn't but a few minutes later everything went sideways.

This part of the stockyards was lit by streetlights, but devoid of most human life. It ran along the river, which was a big concrete canal a couple hundred feet away. Jerry and Max followed the trio until they pushed up against the doorway of the building. Jerry hovered around the edge, Max close behind with his phone camera ready.

Just like he expected, the woman and the fake mugger stepped back into sight under the illumination of the streetlight. A Drake, Parkour for sure with the brick red scales, stepped out after them. He was arguing quietly with the second man.

Snapping a few quick photos and making sure their faces were visible in the light, Max ushered Jerry back the way they had come. Jerry didn't resist and was quite happy to go. He now had photos to share with Eric and with the world. Parkour had arranged most of his rescues.

They'd barely turned a corner when Parkour landed in front of them. His lips pulled back in an unfriendly grin.

"Hey, fellas, what're you doing so far away from everybody?" he asked.

Jerry swallowed. "We just took a wrong turn."

"We were looking to catch an Uber," Max added.

Parkour nodded. "You know all the taxis and Ubers pickup and drop off at that other end of the stockyards, right?"

Jerry puffed out a breath. "Really? That explains why we couldn't find our Uber. Thanks for the directions. We'll just be going now."

Parkour stepped in front of them, blocking their path. Though Jerry knew dragons could get much larger than this guy, he still formed an imposing obstacle to get around.

"That doesn't explain why you were following us all afternoon," Parkour snapped.

Max furrowed his brows. "I beg your pardon? We were enjoying the convention."

"No, I saw you two and another two guys following us everywhere," Parkour said. "What do you want?"

"Nothing!" Jerry said. "We must have kept bumping into you. We're sorry. But, it's kind of cold outside right now, so we'll just get out of your–"

Parkour spotted the small camera dangling from the strap on Jerry's wrist. "You took pictures, didn't you?"

"What? This? I took lots of pictures today," Jerry said.

"Wait. I recognize you. You were there when the woman almost got mugged yesterday," Parkour said. "So, what? You were curious about Parkour's secret identity?"

"You mean the mugging you setup with your buddies yesterday?" Jerry said before he could help himself.

Max palmed his forehead.

Jerry was already backpedaling when Parkour lunged with a snarl. He and Max ran. Unfortunately, Parkour was herding them away from the populated part of the stockyards. They twisted and turned through the buildings, lungs burning from the high elevation and the biting cold.

They were running far too close to the river when Parkour broadsided them and set them over the edge.

Jerry yelled and managed to grab onto the ledge while Max managed to halt his slide into the water by grabbing one of Jerry's legs. Parkour leaned over.

"Give me the camera," he said.

"Aren't you supposed to be a hero? Help us up," Jerry said, struggling to keep a firm hold on the ledge.

"Dude, what are you doing?" The fake mugger peeked over the edge, eyes wide. "Hold on, this isn't–"

"This isn't what you signed up for? No, you signed up to help me get popular, and if these two losers let those pictures get out, all three of us are going to get the wrong kind of popularity," Parkour said.

He hooked a claw under the camera strap and pulled it off of Jerry's wrist.

"Hey, that has all my pictures on it!" Jerry said, but it was too late. Parkour chucked it into the icy river.

"Give me your phone," Parkour growled.

"I don't have a phone. I don't trust technology," Jerry said.

Parkour looked beyond him. "You. Give me your phone and I'll pull you guys up."

Max contemplated his honesty for several seconds. He shivered and pulled the phone from his pocket carefully, then tossed it up to Parkour. Max glared as it went sailing into the river, too.

"Okay, now help us up," Jerry said.

"Come on. Let's get out of here." Parkour turned and started to walk away.

His accomplice followed, arguing, "You're just going to leave them there? What is wrong with you, man?"

"They'll be fine. The security guys come by here. I think. It'll just give us a head start," Parkour said.

"No, no! Wait!" Jerry shouted.

The sound of footsteps faded, replaced by the eerie silence of falling snow. He sighed and rested his cheek against the cold concrete. He wasn't sure how long they hung there, alternating between shivering and yelling for help.

This was not how he imagined his trip to Denver to BeastCon going. At all. His mom told him he worried too much and always planned for the worst. However, this time he was right. It wasn't so much a conspiracy that emerged from the shadows to get him, but dumb luck and a chronic case of wrong place, wrong time. Plus, possibly, his own blind enthusiasm for uncovering the truth.

His fingers were frozen. They ached from the cold and from gripping the edge of the concrete bank above the river canal. The bank wasn't a ninety degree angle, but it was steep enough to make it challenging to pull himself up it. Not to mention he had Max holding onto one leg to keep from plunging into the icy river below.

Jerry tilted his head side to side, looking at the water. He could see the holes in the ice the camera and phone had made. The river itself wasn't very deep in the winter. Had it been summertime, it would have been deeper but warmer. Tonight, the air was dropping below freezing, ice sheathed the water in a glittering cover, and itty bitty snowflakes fell from the sky in dizzying swirls. It was too cold for big, fat flakes. And it was much too cold to risk dropping into the water and getting wet, because then they'd surely suffer from hypothermia.

"Jerry, can you pull yourself up at all?" Max asked.

Jerry sighed. He was barely holding onto the ledge as it was. "I don't think so."

For a river that flowed through a populated section of Denver, there weren't many people out and about. Their initial cries for help had gone unheeded. It had to be the weather and the time of night. Who in their right minds would be outside, anyway? Oh, yeah. Them.

Jerry pulled a deep breath in. Come on. He could do this. Grunting, he forced his arms to tug his weight uphill, dragging Max up with him. They got a smidge before his shaking arms gave out. Though it felt like his hands were permanently formed to the shape of the ledge, one hand slipped and they jerked down precariously.

"Whoa!" Jerry yelped.

His right arm strained, pain interweaving in the muscle fibers and his fingers cramping. He couldn't reach to get a grip with his left hand again.

"I have an idea. It is not a very good one, and I would rather not have to do it, but it might prove successful," Max said.

"I'm all ears," Jerry said. His fingertips barely touched the edge of the ledge.

"I will let go and you may be able to pull yourself up without the extra weight."

"What? No! That water's freezing down there. You'll get too cold," Jerry objected.

"If you pull yourself to safety, you can go get help before I develop hypothermia."

"No, no. Just hold on," Jerry said. His right pinky slipped. The concrete bit into his fingers as they scooted across the ledge.

"Both of us in the water will not do either of us any good," Max said.

Jerry opened his mouth to object again, but the sound of footsteps crunching over the snow on the ground gave him pause.

"Someone's coming," he said. "Hold on, Max. Hey! Over here! We need some help!"

The person quickened their pace. Jerry could've laughed in relief when a face peeked over the edge at them, but an anxious murmur was what he made instead. It was a dragon's face looking at them.

At first, he thought Parkour had had a change of heart and had come back to help them. Then, he thought perhaps Parkour had come to shove them off into the water anyway.

Of course, then he realized he wasn't looking at the face of a Drake at all.

Slender toed front feet clasped his wrists in their grip. The dragon leaned back and started to pull him over the edge. Once he had his elbows hooked on the ledge the dragon grabbed a beltloop and Max's forearm, heaving both of them back onto flat ground.

Jerry heaved for breath, tired and cold and shaking from the adrenaline. He looked up at the dragon as it looked down at him with eyes he swore were familiar.

It was an Arboreal/Drake with a longer face and skinny horns crowing its head. Sandy tans made up most of the scales with splashes of ivory and gray here and there. It was the sage green of the eyes that Jerry recognized.

"Xander?" he asked.

The dragon offered a foot to him and helped him sit up. "I shouldn't have left so soon."

While Jerry stared in awe at the nearly seven foot tall dragon, Max scanned the area. "Where did Parkour go?"

"Yeah, how did you even know where we were?" Jerry asked.

Xander glanced up at a shout and a series of grunts and thumps from around the side of a building. "Your friend Eric got worried and tried to find you. I had watched you follow them out here."

Jerry shook his head and stood up on shaking legs. "Thanks for saving us from taking an unwanted ice bucket challenge."

"If you witnessed us coming out here, what took you so long?" Max asked.

"You were gone for maybe ten minutes," Xander said.

"Seriously? That's all? It felt like we were hanging for an eternity," Jerry said.

Xander cocked his head to the side and started to back away to where the streetlights didn't reach. "I believe you've exposed quite a truth, Jerry. I'll be hearing from you soon, I suppose."

And with that, Xander was gone into the darkness like he had never existed in the first place.

Max stared forlornly at the river where his phone had gone in. Jerry patted his arm awkwardly and they began to jog to where the shout had come from. Well, they speed walked to where it had come from. Jerry was sure his legs were going to give out from under him at any time.

"Whoa," Jerry murmured.

Parkour was sprawled over the edge of a dumpster, groaning lowly. Eric was just pulling his hoodie over his bare chest.

"What happened?" Jerry asked.

"This guy got what was coming to him for trying to toss you guys into the river. Instant karma," Eric explained quickly. He looked around. "Your big tall scary friend already take off?'

Jerry nodded numbly, still baffled as to what exactly had happened.

"We called security. They're going to be here in a minute. Now you really get to expose this guy for the fake he is," Eric said.

"If only we had the pictures to really prove it," Jerry said. "He tossed our stuff in the water."

Eric held up his phone. "Managed to get a couple good shots of him and his buddy together before my phone died. I don't know what his life plans were, but after tonight, being a vigilante is no longer on the menu."

* * *

 _The next day..._

Jerry sighed gratefully once he was back on Oahu. Max made a similar sound of appreciation. The humidity, the warmth, the lack of ice and snow, and just the familiarity of it all put him at ease. It also kind of nipped any inclination of wanting to travel again off at the bud.

Parkour had been arrested for assault and a few other charges. The story so far was that he had slipped on ice on the roof while he had been running away and fell into the dumpster, but Jerry had a sneaking suspicion that whatever had happened was Eric's doing.

He met his mom outside the airport, hugging her tightly and giving her the jewelry he'd bought her.

On the drive back to his house, a small grin flitted across his face. He would have to tell the Commander and the Detective about his trip. And ask the Detective if he thinks his nephew could subdue a dragon.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Steve doesn't like getting his butt kicked and decides to do something about it.**

 **Sorry again that this was late. Friday was all setup for the wedding, Saturday was the wedding, Sunday was a chill day because, of course, I've now got a head cold. And yesterday I took my sister and her husband to the airport about four hours away. It's been a long weekend.**

 **Thank you all for continuing to read, review, fave, and follow!**


	102. Fact 88

**Back to the Core Four. Something more fun and playful.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #88: Skills are worthless unless they are honed continuously.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

Steve struck out at his invisible attacker. Hit, block, block, hit, hit, take down. Sweat dripped down his face. He didn't shadowbox very often, instead preferring a punching bag or actual opponent. Up here in the secluded jungle where his dad used to take him, he had to make do with his own two hands.

Being a Navy SEAL had prepared him well to head up his taskforce. His teammates weren't soldiers, but just as loyal as any of the men he had worked with in the Navy, maybe more so. It had taken him a while to get into the swing of things, sure. Being a police officer was different than being a soldier. Hawaii was not foreign soil. Ops were not black.

He paused. He leaned against a tree and inhaled deeply a few times.

The criminals they caught weren't guerillas and terrorists. Usually, anyway. Come to think of it, they had apprehended quite a few terrorists and cut them off at the knees. Still, a lot of their weekly criminals were thieves, murderers of the garden variety, and the odd hacker or white collar criminal here and there.

So, in theory, as a Navy SEAL, he should have been prepared to take on whatever Hawaii could throw at him. A couple of Serbian gangsters, a few Russians, Yakuza, random thugs off the street. He could and had handled those.

In human form.

Steve sighed and swiped a hand through his sweaty hair. He pushed off the tree and resumed his shadowboxing while he waited.

Wo Fat had nearly killed him more times than he cared to count. In North Korea he had given him shift locking drugs while he tortured him for answers about Shelburne. He didn't know if at that time he knew he was a dragon or was just playing it safe. Then, Wo Fat had nearly killed him again after he had kidnapped Grace.

He scowled and ducked an imaginary blow.

As a SEAL he'd been trained how to fight in dragon form and how to fight other dragons. Of course, the only ones he'd actually sparred with in training were Drakes, Amphibians, and Arboreals. Even when he'd been in the field in the sands of Afghanistan and the rainforests of North Korea, he'd rarely come across a dragon and been forced to fight it hand to hand. And the one he did remember had been a Drake which hit the ground from a spray of bullets before getting close enough to be a threat.

Fighting Wo Fat had been a whole other ballgame. He never knew Serpents were that agile and flexible, able to bend their bodies around an opponent like a python, though he supposed now knowing that made their namesake all the more fitting. It hadn't even been pure muscle that had almost done him in. No, it had been the venomous bite.

He exhaled heavily and continued dancing around the tangled prop roots of the banyan tree.

Duncan had blindsided him in the warehouse. Didn't even give him a chance to shift. He still bore the scars where the tongues of fire had scorched him. If Danny hadn't been there, he would be little more than embers.

A smirk flitted across his face briefly.

Danny had kicked his butt pretty well during his drug induced rage. The Navy hadn't trained him how to handle a Cliff with an attitude problem. Claws over a foot long, a beak able to snap branches in two, an extra set of limbs in the form of wings, scales on the verge of bulletproof, and fire breathing capabilities? Oh yeah, he definitely hadn't been prepared to handle that. He was sure somewhere in a part of Danny's mind that had been unaffected by the drugs, his partner was holding back, and for that he was glad. Upon mental review of the fight, he spotted several opportunities his partner could have maimed or killed him if he had really wanted.

The mutant Wyvern that had escaped from the black site lab and terrorized the island for a few nights had also been something he'd never been trained for. He'd never seen a dragon that big, that swift, or that silent. The image of Danny in its mouth still gave him the chills.

And then there was Jupiter.

Steve rolled his neck. He shook out his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet before starting up again.

Any training he'd had in the Navy had been useless by that point. Go for the weak point. What weak point? Under the jaw? The neck? The belly? Jupiter had been armored to the teeth with only minor soft spots around his eyes. He'd mauled Chin. Dislocated Mauna's shoulder. Dragged Danny around like a ragdoll. He'd pretty much owned Steve in their short fight.

He growled.

He still woke up now and again in a cold sweat feeling like claws were about to crush his skull.

He swung and hit a prop root.

He still woke up wondering when Wo Fat was going to make another attempt on his life.

His knuckles tore through a tangle.

He still woke up smelling singed hair and burned flesh, pain pulsating in old wounds.

His fists uncurled and hooked claws raked through the wood.

He still woke up from nightmares of his team dying. Beaten to death by Jupiter in an unescapable arena with Harry standing and watching with a smile on his face. Nightmares of Grace's body lifeless on the ground and Wo Fat doing the same to Danny without blinking. Nightmares of Duncan setting the island on fire and holding him down while the whole world screamed in the flames. Nightmares of a genetic monstrosity eating Danny and Grover while it held him down with impossibly long fingers.

Nightmares of him not being able to do anything about any of it.

That changed now.

The Navy may not have trained him how to handle things like Wo Fat or Jupiter or a mutant, but that didn't mean he couldn't be trained. He would take that into his own hands.

"What, pray tell, are you doing up here in the middle of nowhere, and why did you order us up here, too?"

Steve retracted the scales and claws as he turned around. Danny stood where the thin boar trail emptied out into the leaf litter underneath the banyan trees. He had Kono and Chin with him, all three of them casually dressed. Catherine would've been there, too, if she wasn't at the mandatory refresher course with Miss Kalawai'a.

"I didn't order you up here. I invited you," Steve said.

"Huh." Danny tucked his hands into his pockets and sauntered forward. "Because the way you said it made it sound like there wasn't a choice."

"What? Would you rather be sitting in your boxers all alone at your house watching Animal Planet?" Steve asked.

Danny made a face at him and Kono snorted.

"But why did you invite us up here, Boss?" she asked.

Steve inhaled and ran a hand over his face before crossing his arms over his chest. "In the SEALs, they teach everyone basic maneuvers to specifically use on dragons. And when you're a dragon in the SEALs, they teach you how to fight and subdue other dragons."

"And?" Danny motioned for him to continue.

"We only ever fought Drakes, Amphibians, and Arboreals, the three most common types," he said. He shifted on his feet. He didn't particularly like admitting to his shortcomings, even to his friends. "But, quite honestly? It was all crap. They barely did a single thing to help me fight the kinds of dragons we've come across as a team."

"Ah," Danny said.

Chin nodded sagely. "And you want to be ready next time."

"Yeah."

"Wait, hold on," Danny said and threw his hands up. "Let me get this straight. You didn't invite us out here for a nice hike or a picnic. You want to do combat training. Am I understanding that clearly?"

"Danny, you almost kicked my butt the first time you shifted in front of–"

"Eh. No. I _did_ kick your butt, and you hid behind the trees until you knocked one down on top of me."

"And Kono," Steve turned and ignored his partner's all too true comment, "I've never even sparred with you in dragon form. You pack a punch as a human."

"Oh, I remember." Chin chuckled. "I remember the first time we were sparring at the gym back when the team first formed. She gave you a run for your money, brah."

Kono grinned.

Steve mentally winced at the memory. Kono didn't exactly always fight fair. When it was a life or death situation, fighting dirty was fine. When it was on the mats, apparently it was still an option if the boss started to get the upper hand.

"The next time we come up against a Jupiter or a Wo Fat or a Duncan or a genetic experiment, I want to be ready," Steve said.

Danny sighed. One hand fluttered up from his pocket. "Well, you know what the paramedic students said back when we got stuck helping them train."

"Proper preparation prevents poor performance," he said. A smile tugged at his lips. "So, you going to train with us, partner?"

Danny shrugged and combed his hair back with the hand that had been fluttering around. Steve spied diamond shaped scales beginning to take form along his forearms.

"I guess it's a good excuse for me to punch you," Danny said with a smirk.

Steve started to laugh, then cursed as Danny leapt at him, already mid-shift with foot long claws reaching to pin him to the ground. He'd forgotten how fast of a shifter he was.

"Cheater!"

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", dragon genetics are wild and there's a disturbance in the Force.**

 **Thank you guys for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! Things are starting to get back to normal now, so hopefully that'll smooth out some of the kinks I've been having with my writing. ;)**


	103. Fact 89

**Ah. Spring is in the air. I can feel it in my bones.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #89: As humans, siblings can all look similar and like they belong to the same family. As soon as they shift? Not so much.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

"No, no, I thought I told you this before," Danny grunted.

Their combat training had devolved from sparring into playful wrestling, and right now Kono had her hind legs wrapped around his neck and was holding down one wing with her chest and forelegs. They'd quickly learned his wings were simultaneously his strong and his weak point.

"You said only half of the Williams kids are full shifters," Steve said.

He was sat against one of the trees with Chin by his side, his gliding wings spread slightly and twitching in the breeze. They had been talking about John McGarrett until something in that conversation prompted Steve to ask Danny about his sister.

"Well, my ma is only a mixed blood, so she threw half and half with us kids," Danny said. He sighed in relief as Kono untangled herself from him, allowing him to retract his wing firmly against his side. "There's me, the one who presents as almost full Cliff which is pretty much the same odds as getting struck by lightning twice. Or getting shot in the same arm twice. Then Bridget, she looks more like Eric, but with whiskers."

"What does Eric look like?" Steve asked.

Danny stretched. His knee was beginning to bother him from all the moving around. They'd have to call it quits before it gave out on him or it rained on them. The clouds had rolled in disturbingly fast while they'd been horsing around.

"You know, kind of short and scruffy," he said.

Steve huffed. "You know what I meant."

"Let's just say he doesn't look related to me and neither does Bridget," he said.

He sat down, sweeping his crocodilian tail around his front feet like a cat. As a human, it was an unnatural rest position, but as a dragon it came naturally to sit like this. Or, he could be like Kono who plopped down on her butt with her hindlegs stretched out so they were nearly level with the ground. He got the distinct impression of a dog about to drag its behind across the carpet with the way she was sitting.

"What about you, babe?" he asked, eyeing the long froggy legs and webbed feet Kono possessed.

"Me? Brah, you're opening up a can of worms with that question," she said. "The Kalakauas and the Kellys are a diverse group. No one looks like anyone. Except, I think my scales are the same colors as Uncle Haku's."

She looked over at Chin for confirmation.

He nodded and held up his forearm, bronze scales patterning across his skin. "Uncle Haku is an Amphibian/Drake, so his scales are rougher than Kono's, but the same colors. We don't know where this bronze on my scales came from. No one in the family has had this color before."

Danny understood perfectly. "My pa is a Cliff, but he's darker than me and doesn't have as big of a nose horn like I do. But, he does have this nautilus shell pattern underneath his wings, stumpy and malformed though they are. Apparently, that's our family's birthmark or something."

"I've heard of that before," Steve said, raising one forefoot to point at the pearly swirled pattern underneath Danny's wings. "That Cliffs have different patterns on the ventral sides of their wings distinct to each family line. They're one of the only dragon types that pass on a marking like that to each generation."

Danny extended one wing fully, making the pattern more visible. He grinned slightly. He'd never been so at ease in dragon form around anyone else besides Grace. No one made him feel comfortable enough to show off his wings, except for their merry band of a reserve Navy SEAL, an ex-cop turned lieutenant, and a surfer whose career had wiped out along with her knee.

"You know, my pa said Grandpa Frankie had the same pattern on his wings," he said.

"I bet Grace would've had it, too," Steve said.

Danny waved a set of claws around and shrugged. "Maybe. She's got gold in her scales like me. But honestly? I'm glad she's not full blooded, you know? She doesn't have to live with the fear of being a Cliff."

"I get you, brah," Kono said.

A stiff breeze rustled through the banyan trees, bringing with it the smell of rain from the higher mountains. Danny breathed in the scent deeply. He let it out slowly and raised his wings up to feel the breeze. The air caressed the membranes stretched between the bones, flowing in the varying currents he had learned to distinguish while on the deserted island so many months ago.

It had been a while since he had shifted fully. It was nice to spread his wings among friends.

"You going to go for a jaunt, Danno?"

He glanced at Steve's face with its suggestive grin. Tilting his head back, he looked at the darkening sky.

"You know, I think I'd like to keep my wings attached to by body and not get struck by lightning," he said, motioning to the thunderheads crowding out the blue above. If the winds could be powerful on a good day, he didn't care to find out what they were like during a thunderstorm.

"Ah, come on," Steve said. He was staring at the sky through the canopy, too. "I've gone gliding in storms like this."

"Yeah?" Danny raised a heavily ridged brow.

Kono sat with rapt attention. "Come on, don't leave us hanging, Boss."

Chin snorted.

"What?" Steve looked down at him.

Chin smirked. "He says he went gliding in a storm on purpose, but I know the less flattering story behind that."

"How do you know?" Steve questioned.

"Your old man," Chin said. He crossed his arms over his chest. "He knew I was dragon blooded and he trusted me enough to tell me about some of the dumb stuff his teenage son did."

"Please, do tell," Danny said, flashing sharp white teeth in a smile as Steve pouted and scowled at Chin.

"It's not my story to tell."

Kono and Danny looked expectantly at Steve.

"But, I will tell you when he's not telling the whole truth," Chin added cheekily.

"How did my dad even know what really happened?" Steve asked, still stuck on the fact he'd been caught. "I gave him a bare minimum summary."

"Mary," Chin said.

Steve's scowl deepened. "It was her fault, anyway."

"Okay, alright already, get on with it," Danny urged.

"It was during Christmas break when I was fifteen," Steve started. "Dad was at work and our Mom had dropped me and Mary off to go hiking with some of my friends. I didn't really want Mary to come, but Mom said she had to."

"Try having two sisters and a brother tagging along everywhere with you," Danny said.

Kono and Chin eyed him.

"I was the official babysitter for almost everyone in the family," Chin said. "Try having all of those cousins tagging along."

"You want me to tell you the story or not?" Steve asked.

"Yes, yes, go on," Danny said.

"Anyway, we did the trail and all the other kids' parents came and picked them up, but Mom was late," Steve said. "I called her. She said to call Dad. I called Dad. He said he couldn't leave yet to pick us up. Told us to just hang out and stay out of trouble."

"Wait, was this the trail with the rock drawings you took me up to see?" Danny asked.

"Petroglyphs. Yeah, it was that one. You know, back in those days, the island seemed like the safest place to be. You didn't worry about locking your doors. You settled things with your fists and that was the end of it. It wasn't a big deal for a fifteen year old and a thirteen year old to be out by themselves."

Chin and Kono nodded in understanding. Having grown up in a city, Danny had rarely gone beyond the front yard without some form of adult supervision, whether that was in the form of his parents, aunts or uncles, or older cousins, it didn't matter. Kids weren't allowed to just wander off, and the one time he did was his first and last time after the sound whack he received on the butt.

"Ten minutes passed, then twenty. Then Mary and I got bored. We went back up the trail," Steve continued. "It was starting to get dark and stormy like this, but we figured we weren't going to go up very far."

Danny waited for the pause to pass, but realized that his partner was trying to formulate the rest of his tale. This must have been the part where he skimped on the details to his dad.

"Well?" Danny prompted.

Chin perked a brow at Steve, waiting to see if he would answer.

Steve mumbled.

"Wait. What was that?" Danny cupped his claws around his ear. "I don't think I heard you right."

Steve bared his teeth in a half-snarl, half-grimace. "Mary dared me to glide off one of the cliffs."

Kono busted up laughing and Danny couldn't hold back his snort. As the eldest, he had dared his younger siblings to do quite a few stupid things back in the day, but rarely had he ever been dared by someone younger than him. That had been his older cousins' and his friends' job.

"You got dared by your kid sister?" he chuckled.

"Yeah? So?" Steve puffed out his chest a little.

"No, no. You see, the funny part is that you actually did it," Danny said.

"You know him. He probably was going to do it anyway, even if she hadn't dared him," Kono said.

Steve exhaled a cloud of steam, clearly not enjoying his friends laughing at his boneheaded deeds as a teen.

"So what happened?" Danny pressed.

"I got struck by lightning."

The snickers ceased abruptly.

"Brah, you for real?" Kono asked. The fins around her face flared up in question.

"That explains a lot," Danny muttered.

"Hey," Steve snapped. "I heard that."

Chin shook his head. "He didn't get struck by lightning."

Kono and Danny shot him a glare.

"It was close, though," Steve said. "It scared the crap out of me and I panicked. Crashed into a tree and put this tear in my wing."

He stretched out his right gliding wing. A visible rend in the translucent membrane at the tip of his wing was visible, about four inches long and an inch wide.

"It was worse when I first did it," he said. "It either healed or got smaller as I grew."

"And Mary?" Danny asked.

"I hike back up there to put on my clothes and she tells me she isn't stupid enough to glide during a storm," he said with a frown.

Danny gestured with his claws. "Mary has wings, too?"

"Smaller and rounder than mine, but she can glide a good distance," he said with a touch of fondness. Danny made a mental note to ask him for stories about the two of them later. "She looks more Amphibian than Arboreal, though. Shorter, fins instead of horns, nubby claws, thicker tail. Murky gray and white scales. Forked tongue, too. I guess that's from our mom's side with the Serpent."

Thunder rumbled overhead. The wind was beginning to blow a few leaves through the banyans and their canopies rustled and bowed to the ever changing storm currents.

"Better head down before we get stuck up here in the mud," Kono said, standing up and shaking the dirt off her.

"We'll go to my house. I'm grilling," Steve said, also getting up.

"In this?" Danny pointed a claw straight up.

"We can move the grill under the umbrella," Steve said. "It may not even get down there before we start cooking."

"We? I'm coming so I don't have to do any work," Danny said.

"You won't even stop to get the beer?"

"You didn't say anything about a beer run. That, I can do."

* * *

Danny secured the beer on the floor in the backseat of the Camaro and then pulled the seatbelt strap over his shoulder. Checking the rearview mirror, he frowned and ran his fingers over his hair. It was always a mess after he shifted back from dragon form. Sticking out at odd angles, flopping forward, parting to the side, it never ended.

After fighting with it for a minute to get it into a semi-normal and tamed style, he started the car. The guys in the liquor store probably thought he looked like a nut in his well-worn Bon Jovi t-shirt and basketball shorts with his hair appearing as if it had a mind of its own.

Before he could even put the car in drive his phone rang.

"I'm coming, Steven. Have some patience, huh?" he greeted.

" _Yeah. I could be an absolute gutter brain with that, but I'm going to keep it PG for now."_

He glanced at his phone in its holder, specifically at the name on the screen. "Sorry, Mags. Steve's grilling and I'm bringing the beer. What's up, babe?"

" _You talk to your nephew lately?"_

His heart skipped a beat and his stomach went sour. "Not since he got back to Jersey from Denver. What's wrong? What happened? What did he do?"

" _Nothing, I don't think. Haven't heard anything, anyway. What did he tell you about his trip to BeastCon?"_

Danny exhaled and pulled out of the parking lot. His hands trembled from the scare. "He said he, Jerry, and Max busted a fake vigilante. And he got a cool shirt. Don't know when he turned into Batman, but I chewed him out over being an idiot."

" _He left out the scary guy that was Jerry's pen pal, huh?"_

"No. He said he was a tall, creepy dude who was into the same conspiracy stuff Jerry's into," he answered.

" _Tall. Creepy. Resting murder face. Conspiracies. Croatian accent. Ring a bell?"_

He blinked. "Are you freaking kidding me? Jerry's pen pal is X-Files?"

" _So, that's not even the weirdest part. I never pegged Xander as one to just go to a convention across the country, even to meet whatever he calls a friend. I caught up with him yesterday morning. He told me he had heard a rumor of someone in the criminal underworld resurfacing in Denver and he needed to confirm it."_

He drummed his fingers on the wheel, chewing his lower lip in thought. "It wouldn't be Shamrock, would it? She never really went under to have a resurfacing."

" _I don't know. He wouldn't tell me. Or didn't know enough, though I find that one hard to believe. What he did tell me felt a bit ominous."_

"Oh, great. You remember the last time he gave us bad tidings on that case in '06?"

" _He was dead on. I know."_

"What'd he tell you?"

" _That the powers in the shadows are starting to move and to stay out of their way."_

Danny rubbed a hand over his face. It sounded like a cliché warning in a movie, but X-Files had been their number one criminal informant for years. Strange though he was, he was rarely wrong.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", a shell game ensues when a valuable piece of art turns up. Action? Yes, please.**

 **I added sketches to the art page of the two boys and their dragon families. I didn't do Chin and Kono's family because so...many...cousins...**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! Mahalo! Gracias! Danke!**


	104. Fact 90

***rubs hands* Not sure what I just got myself into. Hope you guys enjoy.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading and brainstorming with me!**

* * *

 **Fact #90: Dragons aren't the only ones rumored to have hoards of precious items.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

It felt like a decade ago, but in all reality had only been a year, since the last time Steve had seriously considered art. He respected craftsmen and local landmarks that were sacred, he hung some of Grace's artwork on his fridge, but still didn't comprehend how a painting could be worth into the millions. Sure, back when the FBI had been in town searching for their lost artwork, he'd admired the _Temple of the Dragon_ and got behind its history and value as a relic from its time, but two hundred and twenty million dollars?

Now, he was being forced to contemplate the value of not one piece, not two pieces, but a whole room of paintings. If his previous experience was anything to go by, the owner of these paintings could buy a small country with how much the entire room was worth.

"I feel like I could slap some oil on canvas and it would look about like that," Danny said, waving a hand at the piece Steve was currently staring at. "Make about fifty grand a piece."

Steve shook his head. "Mr. Tells said this one is worth a hundred grand."

"You're kidding me."

They both tilted their heads to the side, squinting at the patchwork of colors and patterns.

"I don't even know what it is. What it means," Danny said.

"It is the artist's soul bared to the world. The bright warm colors represent the small pleasures enjoyed by oneself and the cool colors the troubles shadowing the artist's mind and life."

Steve turned on his heel to face the speaker. The event taking place would do so this evening, and there were still numerous people going in and out of the private gallery preparing the place. He wasn't sure if the diminutive art critic behind them was with the catering or someone else of Tells' own hiring.

"You familiar with the piece?" Steve asked.

"Let's just say I'm familiar with art in general," the man said.

He scurried away without another word to them.

Danny huffed. "How did you get us stuck working security detail for a snobbish event like this?"

"Tells is a friend of the Governor's," Steve grumbled.

It hadn't been his idea of an ideal Friday night, either. He'd rather be helping Danny figure out what his informant's cryptic warning meant, or kicked back drinking beer with his team, or swimming, or at the firing range. Or doing paperwork. Pretty much anything but being here.

"Of course he's his friend," Danny said. His hands fluttered out in a dance of frustration that Steve had become used to over the years and was no longer phased by. "I bet he asked for the best security on the island to protect all his hoity toity guests and priceless paint-by-numbers, and did his good old pal the Governor suggest a local agency? Or even HPD? No, he just offers to hand over his elite taskforce. You know what? I'm going to get a business card that clearly states we do not babysit rich people and we don't get volunteered for community service because the captain of SWAT is miffed at us."

"You done now?" Steve asked, fighting back the grin.

"No, I could go on for hours, but since I can see our temporary employer coming our way, I will shut up out of courtesy," Danny said.

Steve allowed the grin to make a brief appearance before getting back into his serious mode that Danny found annoying and ominous, but clients found weirdly comforting. A stone-faced Navy SEAL seemed to reassure them that they were well guarded and there wasn't going to be any funny business.

"Gentlemen," Tells greeted. "I spied you speaking with my art authenticator."

"Strange little fella," Danny said before he could help himself.

Tells stared at him. "Yes, I suppose. But I needed an authenticator on short notice for any pieces that might be purchased tonight. You'd be surprised, Detective, how odd many artists and those involved in art are."

Danny raised his brows in a face Steve interpreted as saying he wasn't surprised at all. In fact, he already knew the artsy type had a certain flair some people found quite unusual. Then again, most of the criminals they dealt with had a certain flair not found in the average person.

Steve glanced around at the ever changing flow of people. "Sir, did you vet your caterers and all the staff working here tonight?"

"Of course. I'm not a totally daft idiot," Tells said. He sniffed and fiddled with his expensive looking cufflinks. "The Governor recommended you should something go horribly wrong. So long as you do your job, I'll do mine and everything should go swimmingly."

Steve nodded politely, glaring at the man's back as he turned and walked away with his secretary or whoever she was jotting down his rapid fire notes on guests and wine selections.

"See? Rich people," Danny said.

Steve touched the wire in his ear. "Chin, is there anyway you can vet all these people before tonight?"

" _I'm flattered you think I'm some sort of technopath, but I can't ID all of them that fast, let alone clear them all."_

"Fine. Do what you can. Make his art authenticator and his secretary the top of the list," he said and dropped his hand.

"You don't think Tells cleared them first?"

"I don't want some kind of surprise later because he didn't do a good enough job," he said.

Danny opened his mouth, then closed it with a click as his phone rang. He excused himself to the side to answer it, leaving Steve to continue staring at all the art on the walls.

What was the theme to this gallery, anyway? Didn't they usually have a theme? Steve scratched the back of head. He needed to brush up on art stuff if they were going to keep working cases or events like this. Romanticism, Impressionism, post-Impressionism, Modernist, Renaissance, abstract, graffiti, they all sort of blended into the same category. There was old art, sort of old art, new and often unfathomable art, and vandalism. That's how he distinguished.

The piece he was currently looking at was a painting of a surreal landscape with orange skies melting into pink mountains and now that he was really looking, he realized the piece could be hung any which way and still make no sense.

"Don't blow a brain cell," Danny commented.

"What was that all about?" Steve asked.

Danny blew out a breath and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "We need to get a hold of Chin before he gets us in hot water with some old friends of ours."

Steve furrowed his brows. "What friends?"

* * *

Neal picked at the next button on his shirt, seriously considering just stripping it off entirely before he sweated into a puddle on the floor of the surveillance van.

"What's the matter? Can't handle the Hawaiian heat?" Peter joked.

"We had to pick the hottest day of their winter to sit in the back of the van," Neal said. "And it's not even a dry heat. How are you not soaked?"

"Better homeostasis than you," Peter said, crushing another water bottle and tossing it into the small wastebasket under the equipment.

The van rocked slightly. Neal looked up at the two cops that had climbed in without any invitation.

"Could've given us a better heads up than that, Burke," the shorter one said. Detective Danny Williams if Neal remember correctly, and he always did.

"We didn't realize we'd be stepping on your toes with a case like this," Peter said, shaking hands with Danny and his partner Commander Steven McGarrett. He was the scary one that set Neal off on edge a little for whatever reason.

"Normally, no," Danny said. His hands settled on his hips for a few seconds before flitting around again. "We do the high profile crimes, you know? Wyvern setting fire to the city, terrorists planting a bomb at Pearl City, a sniper taking out cops, an underground fighting ring. Babysitting art and fancy guests? Not so much."

"Let me guess. The Governor wrangled you guys into this as some sort of penance for something," Peter said, cracking a smirk at them.

Neal grinned. He thought he walked a gray line, but he was a criminal informant. He figured he had some leeway. The Five-0 Taskforce, made out of cops and a Navy SEAL, now they broke some rules and toed the line, which had struck him as bizarre at first.

"I saw you guys on the _Savannah Show_ ," Neal said. Their reactions matched what he'd seen on the show. A lot of 'get that camera out of my face' moments and glares shot the camera's way.

"We were in the middle of a sensitive case," Steve said gruffly.

"I don't like someone following me around with a camera on a good day," Danny added.

"Journalists, bloggers, TV show hosts, they're all the same." Peter shook his head.

Neal combed his fingers through his hair, grimacing at the sweat matting it down. Even in light cotton pants and a short sleeve dress shirt he was still roasting. Peter had on slacks and a blue button down rolled up to the elbows with only a small bead of sweat on his brow. Danny and Steve were no better, and yet seemed fine with the temperature.

"Is it always this hot and humid?" he asked.

"A storm front's moving in and pushing the heat down," Steve said. He was hunched slightly in the back of the van, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "It'll be cooler and pouring rain tomorrow."

Peter shot Neal a look. Neal wasn't particularly fond of the rain. It made his hair too fluffy and he hated getting his suits wet.

Peter sobered and shifted away from the camera feed on the monitors. "Hey. Nice work taking down the Breeders, Williams. I could barely believe my ears when I heard how big of an operation it had been."

Neal cocked his head to the side, watching Danny stiffen and pale minutely. He caught a twitching muscle in back and the tightening of his jaw. He'd bet the real story, not the one spread through the media, was far more interesting and darker.

"The Dragons Right Division of the FBI is still working on locating the buyers and other accomplices," Peter said. He had on his concerned suspicious face. He must've seen the slight reactions, too.

Steve cleared his throat. "So, what're you doing on our island again?"

Peter let it drop for now, knowing better than to pry. He had learned how to be patient with Neal.

"Remember the _Temple of the Dragon_?" he asked.

"Yes. Some goon tried to cleave my arm off over it and beat the snot out of Caffrey," Danny said, his tension from bringing up the Breeders sliding away.

Neal winced at the memory. It had been one of those times he sincerely wished he'd been born a full blooded shifter instead of a mixed blood. Even scaling up on his torso had done little to ease the blows.

"We think the buyer along with our FBI mole is going to be here tonight," Peter explained.

"That's why you guys didn't turn up on our radar," Danny said. "It's all hush, hush because of the mole. You have backup this time or are you counting on us to help out?"

"I've got Jones and Diana with me, and we have an inside man," Peter said.

"You guys were getting ready to blow his cover with your vetting process," Neal said, pointing at the box on the monitor displaying their inside man.

The two Hawaiian cops leaned in and squinted.

"The art critic?" Steve questioned.

"Your inside man is Tells' art authenticator?" Danny asked, waving a hand at the screen.

"He's not FBI. His identity held up under Tells' scrutiny, but we weren't sure it would hold up under yours," Peter said. He tossed his cell phone on the table by the monitor. "That's why I called you. Figured it'd be better to have you in on the loop than get shot with friendly fire in a shootout, if it comes to that again."

"You realize who you're speaking to, right? Murphy's Law is in full effect with all of us one hundred percent of the time. I suggest keeping some tac vests on hand nearby," Danny said with zero hint that he was teasing.

After last time, Neal was inclined to believe him. He sweated even more just thinking about donning that heavy piece of equipment.

* * *

Later that night, the guests were beginning to arrive. The air had cooled to a tolerable temperature, though Danny didn't think it had been that bad earlier. Maybe he had acclimated to the heat and humidity despite his grousing about the tropical weather versus, in his opinion, New Jersey's more preferable climate. He'd almost laughed at how uncomfortable Burke's CI looked. Admittedly, the surveillance van had been stale and stuffy. That was just one of the reasons he preferred to do surveillance in his Camaro instead of a van.

"I bet that outfit cost a year's salary," he said quietly to Steve.

His partner subtly appraised the amber silk dress and the golden jewelry draped on the woman's neck and wrists. Real amber teardrop earrings dangled from her ears, as well. She wasn't the only one. All around them were women clad in sapphires, rubies, onyx, diamonds, pearls, and who knew what else. Men looking like they had stepped out of GQ had Danny seriously considering the state of his wardrobe.

"Security is a nightmare," Steve grunted. His rigid posture, his dark suit, and his earpiece definitely gave him an intimidating appearance that had some of the guests giving them a wide berth, which was fine with Danny. "Tells said he vetted all of his guests, but Chin didn't have time to double check."

"You really think an art hoarder like Tells would let an unvetted person in through his front gate?" he asked. "It's the hired help I'm worried about. People don't notice the waiters and gardeners."

"Burke's keeping an eye on his inside guy and Tells' secretary checked out," Steve said. "Chin's still running checks in the background while watching the perimeter."

The two of them were planted inside the gallery, because who didn't want a Navy SEAL in the middle of the action? And Steve never went anywhere without his backup, or at least that's what he told Tells when the man had only wanted one person inside the gallery. Chin and Kono were outside on the perimeter, making sure no one came in or went out a back way.

Catherine, on the other hand, had dolled herself up and was indistinguishable among the guests. Danny had caught Steve's eyes darting over to his girlfriend several times already. He was surprised the floor length black dress with its high slit and the silver jewelry gracing her collar bone didn't have his partner drooling. Yet. There was still the rest of the night.

Danny rubbed behind his ear, grinning slightly. "I bet Caffrey is chafing at the collar at being left out of the party, huh?"

" _You have no idea, Williams. But after last time, we're not taking any chances with the buyer or the mole recognizing him or me."_

They'd connected all their comms so both teams could communicate clearly with each other. Danny would really hate to catch a bullet just because one of Burke's team didn't realize he was a friend, not a foe, in the heat of battle.

"Your art authenticator is seriously eyeing a surreal piece on the north wall. Should we be worried?" Danny asked after doing a sweep of the room with his eyes only.

" _Mozzie, look but don't touch."_

" _Easy, Peter. He's not really into Surrealism."_

Danny reluctantly took his sight off of Burke's man. For Caffrey insisting he wasn't into Surrealism, he sure was intently examining the piece Steve had been staring at earlier. He'd trust their judgment on it for now. It wasn't his agent or informant or whoever this Mozzie was.

"Hey, Sailor," Catherine greeted as she walked by them. She snagged a flute of champagne off a waiter's tray and pretended to study the piece of artwork to the right of Steve. "I think Tells' secretary made me as a cop."

Danny lifted his head and picked the woman out of the crowd. No longer attached to Tells at the hip, she stood with a well dressed man whom Danny recognized as Tells' head of security. Her chestnut hair was combed up into a bun with a pair of green jade hair pins adorning it. A matching jade bracelet and earrings sparkled in the ambient lighting and a gray off-the-shoulders dress hugged her form nicely.

"Guess Tells hoards all kinds of pretty things," he said.

"How'd she know?" Steve asked, taking care not to look at Catherine or act like he was speaking to her.

"I don't know. She asked if I was accompanying your team," she said.

"It's probably because this animal can't stop ogling you from across the room," Danny commented with a chuckle.

"Oh? Is that so? Thanks for blowing my cover." Catherine sighed and rolled her eyes, winking at Steve and wandering off into the crowd again.

"Why'd you tell her that?" Steve questioned once she was out of earshot.

"Truth hurts, babe." Danny shrugged.

The lights flickered and then cut out completely.

A chorus of gasps and a muted yelp traveled through the darkness.

Danny drew his gun and counted. It was a full four seconds before the backup generator kicked in and the lights returned. No one was dead by all appearances and no armed gunmen seemed to have infiltrated the place.

"The Benev–the painting!"

Danny looked where Tells was pointing and scrambling over toward.

"It's gone!" he crowed.

Danny cursed. While Steve systematically checked for any hidden exits and made sure no one was hurt, he consulted the outside teams. "Chin, Burke, what the hell happened?"

" _I don't know. We didn't see anything on our monitors. Neal?"_

" _Don't look at me. I wouldn't steal a painting with this many cops around."_

" _Looks like the power went out to the whole estate."_ That was Chin. " _I'll check the –"_

" _I've got a suspect fleeing from the south side of the property. In pursuit."_

"Hey, hey, make sure you have backup, Kono," Danny snapped.

" _I'm closing in on her six, Williams. Don't worry."_

Danny relaxed slightly. Agent Diana Barrigan plus Officer Kono Kalakaua? They'd make a formidable team.

"Tells' secretary is gone," Catherine said as she sidled up next to Danny with her gun drawn. Where she had hidden it in her dress, he wasn't sure and wasn't even sure he wanted to know.

Danny backed out of the gallery toward the front entrance on a hunch. Both of the bodyguards that had been flanking the doors were on the ground and out for the count.

"Steve! This way!" he hollered.

Running at a quick clip, they left Catherine and Jones to watch over the rest of the gallery as they followed the most likely trail the secretary had taken. There was only one way in and out of the gallery. She had to have come this way. That, and Steve had flickered a long purplish tongue out and picked up her scent.

"Yep, she came this way," Danny said, noting the high heels that had been ditched in a flowerbed.

They edged along the side of the house toward the back garden. An arm snapped out and promptly clotheslined Steve, knocking him back into Danny.

Steve retaliated with a leg sweep that didn't quite bring their attacker down, but made him stumble. Seizing the opportunity, Steve leapt up and brought his gun up. The man grabbed it in practiced ease and twisted it away.

"Hey, hands where I can see them!" Danny raised his gun and kept out of reach of the man. Guns had a certain useful distance and within arm's reach was too close, as had just been demonstrated.

Two prongs dug into the side of his neck and the jolt of electricity sent static through his vision. His muscles spasmed violently. He vaguely heard Steve yell his name before dropping to the ground.

The air shoved out of his lungs as a body landed on top of his with a groan. He grunted. Whoever they were had just taken down Super SEAL and dropped his much taller partner on his back.

"Come on, come on! The cops and the FBI are going to be crawling all over the place."

"That was fun!"

The two, or three maybe, suspects ran off over the grass.

Danny breathed out through his nose. In. Out. In. Out. Dragons were a bit more tolerant of being tasered than humans. It still hurt and would knock you out if it was a strong enough charge, but the effects didn't linger as long.

Hands were suddenly helping him up.

"Williams, hey, you with me?"

Two FBI agents merged into one. Burke. Danny shook his head slowly.

"They went that way." He managed to point a shaking finger in the direction they had headed.

"How many?"

"Three, I think. A man surprised us, and then I think there was another woman along with Tells' secretary. Oy vey, my head. Steve?"

"Fine."

He craned around to see his partner sitting up on his knees, rubbing the side of his face. He spit blood from the split lip.

"Think I swallowed another tooth."

Danny giggled manically. "Of course you did."

Burke cast a sideways glance at Caffrey and then helped Danny get to his feet. He steadied him while touching his earpiece. "Kelly, Jones, we've got three suspects looking to get away on the north side of the property."

" _Understood. HPD is here and Duke has two patrol units on that side."_

"Good," Burke said. "Diana, what about you?"

Danny shook his head again, trying to understand the conversation through the ringing in his ears.

" _Kono and I got ours in cuffs. You want me to assist in pursuit?"_

"No. If it's a crew, I don't want them doubling back for their other member," Burke said. "Sit on him and make sure he doesn't run."

" _Understood."_

" _Hey, how're Steve and Danny? Heard a fight happen over the comms."_

"A little banged up, but don't look any worse for wear," Burke said.

"We're good, Kono," Steve said, finally getting to his feet. He swayed a little and caught himself on Caffrey's shoulder. "Get your suspect to interrogation back at the Palace."

" _Got it, brah."_

Danny shrugged Burke's hand off his arm and nodded his thanks. "I hate getting popped with a stun gun."

"Was this worse than Hoboken?" Steve asked.

Danny frowned at him. "No, Hoboken was way worse and no, I'm still not telling you that story."

* * *

Danny rolled his shoulders and neck on the elevator ride down to the interrogation rooms. What he wouldn't give for some Fire Root right now. His trap muscles were tight as piano strings and twitched occasionally from the zap. At least he hadn't fallen into convulsions like he had in Hoboken. That hadn't been fun. At all.

"You good, partner?" Steve asked.

Danny eyed him. "Me? Sure, I'm just peachy. Getting tasered really does something for a guy's mood, you know? You, on the other hand, look like you got dragged across gravel."

Steve winced as he gingerly touched the bloody scrapes on the left side of his face. Red bruising was beginning to blush purple on his cheekbone and his lip had swollen on one side. At least with how fast dragons healed, the scratches would be scabbed over by the morning and the bruising would be gone within a few days.

"Which tooth did you lose this time?" he asked.

"Canine," Steve said. He lifted his upper lip to display the gap in his upper jaw where a tooth had once sat. "That guy had scales on his fist."

"And hit you like a semi-truck," he added.

Steve pressed the code on the outside of the door and walked into the dungeon-esque room. Its blue walls and cold concrete floor had made many criminals nervous, as did the drain under the metal chair. For some reason, that made them more nervous than anything else.

The man currently handcuffed to the chair was no different. Sweat dotted his brow and his knee bounced in anxiety.

"My mama always said I was going to wind up chained to a chair bolted to the floor, she said it and I never believed her. I'm sorry, Mama, you were right," the man rambled. He looked at them with wide eyes. "Don't I get like a, um, call out of here or somethin'? Is any of this even legal? Why is there a drain in the floor, man? Why on earth would you need a drain in an interrogation room?"

"Hey, shut up," Danny commanded.

"What's your name?" Steve asked.

"My name? My name is right here, man." The man used his chin to point to the name badge on his electrician uniform. "George Smith. My name is George Smith and I don't know why I'm under arrest and how deep are we, man? Are we underground?"

"The walls are pretty thick here. Soundproof," Steve said.

Danny half-expected the man to pee his pants. Steve was circling like a predator and his soundproof comment didn't help alleviate any fears. Danny crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against a wall.

"I don't know about you, pal, but I'd rather be at home right now," he said. He sighed. "You won't have to find out what the drain in the floor is for if you talk to us."

The man mumbled under his breath, apparently cursing someone named Eliot.

"Hey!" Steve slammed his hand on the back of the chair. The man jumped. "Start talking."

"Because when we catch the rest of your crew, and we will with the FBI's help and with full permission from the Governor to turn over every rock, one of them is going to get the better deal," Danny said. "Why not make sure you get it?"

The man leaned forward, licking his lips. "Look, man, I don't know what you're talking about. I work for the electric company. Apparently, when the lights go out you arrest the guy trying to fix it?"

Danny massaged his forehead. It was going to be a long night.

There was a tapping at the door.

Danny pulled it open. "What?"

Burke motioned for them to step outside. They closed the door behind them to make sure the man didn't hear anything.

"We've got a problem," Burke said.

Danny glanced at Caffrey nervously looking around the dungeon and then back at Burke. "You remember what I said about Murphy's Law?"

"You guys have it in spades, I know," Burke said. He handed a file over to Steve. "The painting that was stolen? It was a forgery."

Danny's brows went up and he looked at Caffrey.

"Not one of mine. Mozzie said he got a good look at it. The current painting is covering up one underneath it. A much older, much rarer one." Caffrey, despite the clear apprehension at being down here, looked excited. Really excited. It almost made Danny nervous.

"What painting is it hiding?" Steve looked up from the file.

"Go on, tell them." Burke gestured for his CI to spill the beans like one would a small child.

"It's the _Grave of the Dragon_ ," Caffrey said, blue eyes sparkling with genuine joy and intrigue. "The Agostino Beneventi painting that was supposedly destroyed in World War II."

Danny whistled. "I'm not sure I even want to know what this one's price tag is."

"And that's not the worst part," Burke said.

Steve flipped through the file and growled. "You think Tells is the buyer from before."

Danny sighed. This night definitely just got a lot longer.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", everything goes sideways in a three-way crossover.**

 **So, what'd you guys think? Think I'm slightly crazy crossing all these guys over with each other? What do you want to see happen in the next chapter?**

 **Thank you guys for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	105. Fact 91

**So, this one took and rambled away from me. Oops.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #91: Dragons are suited for a variety of jobs. Bodyguard. Interrogator. Cop. Soldier. Grifter. Hitter. Thief.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

He knew it. He absolutely knew this case was going to devolve. He was just blown away by how quickly it went sideways this time. Not even sideways. This whole thing was flipped completely and utterly upside down. He might as well have been laying on the ceiling.

As it was, Danny knew he was currently kissing a concrete floor. Cold, sort of dusty. Hard. Half his face was numb from being pressed against the hard floor for however long it had been. The schmucks couldn't have the curtesy to throw him on a blanket? Or at least on his back instead of his face?

Probably didn't want him to start vomiting and aspirate due to the drugs. Oh yeah, drugs. He could feel the drugs pumping through his veins like molasses. It was a fuzzy, blurry feeling.

His heart skipped a beat.

Pins and needles traveled up and down his legs. Tingling. A lag between his brain and body. A heavy chain around his ankle. A metal band around his mouth. Cramped darkness closing in around him.

Panic clutched his chest.

He forced his eyes open. Muted light illuminated the concrete in front of him. With a monumental effort, he twisted his head to the side. Not a shipping container. A warehouse. Or a large basement. No, it felt like a warehouse. If he had a dollar for every time something bad went down in a warehouse, he'd be able to retire early.

He licked his dry lips and willed his brain to function. He wasn't covered in scales, so that was good. He didn't have the nausea he'd come to associate with Black Dragon Eel toxin. Also good. He managed to twitch his feet. No chains. No nose tube. No muzzle.

As his hearing became keener, he was aware of a dull thump and a groan. And voices. For now it sounded like they were underwater or he had cotton stuffed in his ears.

 _Come on, dragon biology, process the drugs already. Wake up_ , he repeated over and over in his mind. Dragons are durable, not invincible. He could use some invincibility in his life. At least he was able to focus beyond the dust motes on the floor now.

He blinked slowly.

It was still muffled and looked a bit blurry, but he knew what he was witnessing. Peter Burke was tied to a chair and being interrogated by two men.

Sideways didn't even begin to cover the state of this case.

* * *

To say Steve was pissed was an understatement. Chin had seen all the sides to his boss, and he had only seen this fury once before. When the Breeders had kidnapped Danny. He didn't think he'd be able to hold the Navy SEAL off from mauling someone this time if it came to that.

"I should've been with them on that prisoner transport," Steve growled not for the first time.

"You didn't know, Steve," Chin said. Keep it cool, keep it calm. He was the rock in the choppy waters of tropical storm McGarrett unfurling before them. "You were talking with the Governor. Danny and Agent Burke can handle themselves."

"But they didn't!" Steve roared.

Chin caught Caffrey flinch out of the corner of his eye. Beneath the smooth, suave exterior, he could see the CI's panic and worry for his handler. Steve wasn't helping with his pacing and with the steam rolling from his nostrils every now and then. It seemed he didn't even care if Caffrey knew he was a dragon. His laser focus was zeroed in on finding their missing people and prisoner.

"Did Burke have anything else on Tells?" Steve rounded on Caffrey.

For his part, Caffrey stood his ground. Most men cowered before the predator their boss often became in situations like this. Human or dragon, he could scare the daylights out of almost anyone. Chin had to give him points for being brave.

"Peter gave what we had to you," Caffrey said. He combed his fingers through his hair, a sliver of panic cracking the cool and collected surface. "It was only enough to warrant an investigation, not arrest Tells."

"He must've been worried you were going to find something incriminating," Chin said.

"Last time we had to deal with these paintings, gun runners were involved," Kono threw out. "You think that's it? Maybe Tells was freaking out because he's in bed with them?"

A spark lit up in Caffrey's eyes. "Or he owes money to them. He was wanting to sell some of the paintings. According to his records, he rarely sells any of his paintings. If he was planning on selling _Grave of the Dragon_ to a buyer last night, he may have been trying to cover his debts."

Steve stiffened. "And then the painting was stolen. But why kidnap Danny and Burke?"

"Collateral damage? Maybe they were after George Smith and they got in the way?" Kono suggested.

Catherine swept into the bullpen from her office. Long gone was the sexy dress and matching jewelry, replaced by functional pants and sneakers. "That was Diana and Jones. They've been checking the FBI offices here on the island. The guy you suspect is the mole disappeared this morning."

"Ricardo Medrano. He's about as dirty as they come."

In one swift movement, four guns were drawn and pointed at the newcomer in the bullpen. Chin frowned. How did people keep getting up here without them being alerted? First Danny's old partner Mags, and now this guy.

"Who the hell are you?" Steve barked.

Caffrey brushed between them with his brows furrowed. "Nathan Ford?"

The man smirked.

Behind him another man appeared, though Chin did recognize this one. This was Burke's guy, the one that had posed as Tells' art authenticator. He glanced at the guns and, deciding they weren't going to shoot him, crossed the room to the smart table where they were gathered and faced Caffrey.

"See. I told you I was getting the cavalry," Mozzie said quietly. He pivoted on his heel. "Hawaiian Suits, this is Mr. Ford. He's an insurance investigator."

A small red flag went up on Chin's radar at the way Mozzie emphasized 'insurance investigator', but let it slide. Caffrey's companion was an odd man, as evidenced by his insistence with calling every law aligned person some variation of Suit. As it was, Steve was Commander Suit and he was sure the rest of them had nicknames as well.

"What's an insurance investigator doing here?" Steve questioned, not lowering his gun.

Chin backed away toward the smart table and brought up his search program. One handedly he typed in the name. With Danny, Burke, and their prisoner missing, they weren't taking any chances.

Ford pulled a hand out of his pocket and waved it around slowly. "Tells was being investigated by IYS for some fishy insurance on a few of his paintings. The man you arrested? Mr. George Smith? He works for me."

The smart table pinged. Chin scanned the information quickly. Nathan Ford had worked for IYS for a number of years. There were plenty of files going back over a decade to prove it. Satisfied, he holstered his gun and the rest of his team did the same.

"How do you know Mozzie?" Kono tilted her head to the side in a gesture to said man.

"We have various ties," Caffrey said. "Ford knows Peter."

Ford nodded. "We were investigating Tells when the painting was stolen last night. I was going to come retrieve my man this morning only to hear he'd been kidnapped as had Burke and one of yours."

"What was your man doing hanging around the electric box?" Chin asked. Something didn't feel quite right, but he couldn't put his finger on what.

"Part of our cover," Ford answered. His dark eyes swept over them. Sharp, intelligent, analytical deep blue eyes. Something definitely didn't feel quite right here. "Tells wasn't supposed to know IYS was investigating him. I have it on good authority that you suspect gun runners are involved as well as Agent Medrano."

Steve heaved a sigh through his nose. "We thought we had rounded up the rest of the gang last year."

"Except the Dirty Suit has been initiating and mediating trades between the Columbians and the Yakuza," Mozzie said.

All eyes turned on him. Ford and Caffrey were the only ones who didn't look surprised.

"How'd you know that?" Catherine asked.

Mozzie shifted nervously and held his hands up. "I'm a street contact. Word travels on the street. Not all in one sentence, of course, it's more like a word search or a connect-a-dot, but once you put it all together, you get the gist of what's going on."

Steve took a step forward, towering over both CIs. The black panther sizing up a meal. "Where's their hideout? They must be storing contraband somewhere on the island."

"I'm not psychic. All I know is that Medrano is in deep with both gangs, and that he's been using Tells to launder money," Mozzie said. "I'm a white collar criminal! I don't have dealings with gun runners and drug smugglers. It lacks a certain elegance."

"And Tells owes him money," Ford chimed in. "That's why he was insuring his paintings for so much."

"You think the theft was staged?" Catherine glanced at him with a perked brow.

Ford shrugged. "The how and why doesn't matter at the moment. What matters is getting our people back unharmed."

Kono huffed out a laugh. "You got some sort of magic tracking skills, brah? We've been trying to trace phones, license plates, bank accounts, and haven't turned up anything."

Ford cocked his head to the side with a crooked grin. "I may have something to help with that."

* * *

Peter believed himself to be a fair and reasonable man who didn't pass blame around. Sometimes bad things just happened. Wrong place, wrong time. However, he was seriously considering blaming this on Five-0. Sure, he and Neal had their share of issues back in New York with operations going awry, but nothing like Five-0. Williams wasn't kidding when he said their team's motto is Murphy's Law.

His head snapped to the side.

Medrano shook out his fist and rolled his neck. "Come on, Burke. Anytime you want to make this stop, you can."

Peter spit, tasting the blood in his mouth. At the rate he was going, Medrano was going to wind up knocking out a tooth soon. "I told you. I don't know where Tells' painting is."

Damon, Tells' head of security, exhaled slowly and deeply. "But you believe it was stolen by that man, yes?"

Peter glanced over at where Damon was pointing. In the shadow along one bare wall he could make out two bodies. One was the tall, young black man, George Smith, and the other he knew was Williams just from the short and broad shouldered build. Both appeared unconscious.

"We don't know what he did," he said carefully. He looked up at his interrogators. "Do you know how stupid it was to kidnap an FBI agent and the second-in-command of Five-0?"

Damon shifted uncomfortably. Medrano, on the other hand, squared his shoulders and curled his fingers into a fist again. Peter braced for the hit just before the man's fist connected with his stomach. Scales shielded him from the brunt of the impact. He may have given Neal crap for constantly scaling up when he didn't need to, but there was no denying being a mixed blood with Drake scales came in handy in this sort of situation.

"You should've stayed on the mainland, Burke," Medrano said. He smoothed his hair back with one hand.

"You and Five-0 screwed up the buy of _Temple of the Dragon_ last year. You got what you wanted. You didn't need to come poking your nose around here again," Damon said.

Medrano scowled at the other man. "Idiot. Quit talking."

"We already know Tells was involved with that whole debacle last year," Peter said, using the reprieve to catch his breath and fidget with the handcuffs holding his arms behind the metal chair. "And the agency has caught wind of you, Medrano. If you let us go now, it'll go a hell of a lot easier for you. Deals can be made."

Medrano's mouth twitched in a grim smile. "When you're as deep in this stuff as I am, Burke, there is no easy option. And I'm a lot more afraid of my business partners than I am of the FBI or Five-0."

Peter's brow furrowed. He knew Medrano was dirty and had been the one to smuggle the Beneventi painting out of FBI protection and clear to Hawaii. The gun runners they'd bumped into last year during that operation must have been his business partners. His best guess was that the painting had been some sort of payment.

"We should wake up the other guy," Damon said. "See if he really is the thief or if he's expendable."

Medrano narrowed his eyes, still focused on Peter. Stars danced in his vision as the man struck him across the cheekbone. Didn't even ask him a question this time. Peter shook his head.

"I'm not done with this guy," Medrano said.

"You got a grudge against me, Medrano?" Peter asked.

"You know how some people just rub you the wrong way?" Medrano raised a brow at him. Peter scaled up as he swung for his abdomen again. He bit back a groan. "You just rub me the wrong way. Where's the FBI keeping _Temple of the Dragon_?"

Peter huffed out a disbelieving chuckle. "Trust me, you won't be able to take it a second time."

"I would've thought the good and noble Peter Burke would've had it returned to a museum or something," Medrano said. "The FBI has stash houses and vaults. Which one is it in?"

"You've been made. You can't waltz into any FBI building without being arrested," he said. He winced as he pulled a breath in. "It's over, Medrano. The whole bureau will be looking for you. Let me take you in and you won't go out in a hail of bullets."

"Cute," Medrano said.

Peter didn't like the look in Medrano's eyes. It was a scheming look. He could tell when Neal was scheming, but it was more like a schoolboy planning out a prank with a dashing grin and a certain charm. This? This was a cold and insensitive man planning out a murder.

"Caffrey still has some stuff stashed away, doesn't he," Medrano stated more than asked.

His heart thudded against his ribcage. Hopefully Neal would stick close to the well-armed Five-0 team. He didn't want him tangled up with the likes of Medrano. "He burned through most of his resources running from the bureau and since he's been on his anklet."

"He's a conman. He's a thief. He's like me. We always have a backup," Medrano said.

Think. Think quick. "Even if he has anything left, he won't give it up for the agent who put him in jail. And he's nothing like you."

Medrano barked out a laugh. "See, that's funny. Think what you want, Burke. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't. But I think you know where I can find at least some of his forgeries. It'd be a start."

He cursed inwardly. He did know where Neal kept some of his replicas. He'd watched him paint a few. Neal had told him he wasn't going to sell them and was merely painting to clear his mind, which he believed. It wasn't a crime to replicate a painting, only to pass it off as the real thing, which is what he had a feeling Medrano would do.

Not only that, but he'd be putting June's life in danger if he told him where they were, since they were in the loft at her house.

"Oh, don't tell me you actually care about your CI," Medrano said and rolled his eyes.

Damon held up a hand. "Hey. Are you going to get anything from him, or should we move on?"

Medrano bent at the waist to look him in the face. "He's a criminal. Give up some of his work. Or give him to me. I'm sure I can find some unsavory people willing to pay for his head. Choose one, and I'll let you go."

"I don't think you will," he said. No masks, no effort to hide their identities, no ransom calls. He knew their endgame.

Medrano shrugged. "You may not care about yourself, but you might care about Detective Williams. He has a picture of a kid in his wallet. It would be a shame if she lost her father because you cared more about your job and your CI."

Grace. That was Williams' daughter. He only knew her by name, but knew she was the detective's whole world. His head hurt with the decisions before him.

Jones and Diana would be looking for him. Neal and Mozzie would have most likely taken to the streets to turn up information on Medrano and his hideouts. Five-0…he wasn't sure what Five-0 would be doing, but seeing as Williams was McGarrett's best friend, he figured they were tearing the island apart. They would find them.

All he needed to do was stall.

"You're right, Medrano," he said. This was a bad idea. This was something he'd tell Neal not to do. "Caffrey was a criminal. A good one. He can forge things I've never seen forged."

Damon perked up. Medrano crossed his arms over his muscled chest in suspicion.

"He's done some stupid stuff in his life," he continued. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he caught Williams stirring. "He's made my life difficult. He's frustrating, especially when he gets out of trouble without a scratch and leaves me to clean up after him."

"And?" Medrano questioned.

Scales armored his ribcage and abdomen. Peter eyed the dirty agent defiantly. "And he's a better man than you ever will be."

Medrano's face contorted with fury. He caught him in the side with an open hand and sent him and the chair sprawling. Peter gasped for breath, pain radiating through his shoulder from hitting the concrete.

A foot stepped in front of him. Dirt brown scales covered the toes and big claws scraped the ground.

"Should've just talked, Burke," Medrano rumbled.

Peter swallowed and steadied his pounding heart. Medrano reached over him, claws grabbing the handcuffs and pulling him away from the chair. He'd gotten what he wanted. Medrano's attention was all on him now. Only, he hadn't counted on him being a Drake.

Medrano snorted. He felt his claws scrabbling against his hands.

"No, no!" Peter snapped as the Drake slid his wedding ring off.

Medrano held the gold band between his claws and bared sharp teeth at him in a smirk. "After this is done and before I disappear out of the country, I'll be sure to pay your wife a visit and tell her how her husband died."

* * *

Neal glanced over at the officers and agents surrounding the smart table. He was glad the Commander had something else to focus on other than breathing down his neck. He understood. He did. His friend was missing and he was running into a brick wall trying to track him down and that aggression was getting transferred toward him, Mozzie, and Ford.

It didn't mean he enjoyed that intimidating presence being that close to him.

"So, what are you really doing here?" he asked Ford quietly.

The three of them were situated at a regular table on the other end of the bullpen. Neal wasn't a tech guy, they wouldn't let Mozzie anywhere near their equipment, and Ford had given them full control once he'd given them a starting point.

"What do you mean?" Ford asked.

A picture of calm on the outside, but Neal knew better. The way his eyes darted around the bullpen and the computer screens, the tenseness of his jaw, his occasional mutterings. He was antsy.

Mozzie leaned forward on the table. "Let's just say we know you're no longer employed by IYS and haven't been for a number of years."

Ford chuckled. "And yet you introduced me as an insurance investigator."

"I've heard about your crew," Mozzie said. "I respect what you do and I'm not a nark."

Ford frowned momentarily and then clasped his hands together. With a lowered voice, he said, "We didn't expect the FBI and Five-0 to be involved with the painting."

Neal grinned. "Your crew stole it."

"And then we had our man stolen," Ford said. His eyes drifted up to the group currently tracking their men down and then landed back on Neal. "What do you know about Tells and Medrano?"

Neal shook his head. "Not much. Last night we started suspecting Tells was involved in the botched buy last year after the _Temple of the Dragon_ was stolen from the FBI. We only recently got enough evidence to point to Medrano as the mole. That's why we were here, trying to draw him out."

"My source tells me the Dirty Suit has been acting as a go-between for the Columbians and the Yakuza getting guns and drugs on and off the islands," Mozzie added.

"Well, the Yakuza are about to find out Medrano has stolen _Grave of the Dragon_ and disappeared without paying his debts, and the Columbians are going to think he sold them out to the Yakuza," Ford said.

Neal blinked as the pieces came together. "You're using Medrano to start a gang war? Innocent people are going to get hurt."

"Nah." Ford waved off his concern. "Interpol and some of our friends in the FBI will close in on them before they have a chance to organize a retaliation."

"I haven't heard anything about the FBI closing in on them," Neal said.

"That's because they don't know they're about to make several arrests," Ford said simply.

And it was anything but simple. He had to admire how much work had to have gone into a con of this size with this many moving parts. Through the grapevine he'd heard how determined and intelligent Ford was, he'd even had him on his tail one time for an IYS insured piece he might have stolen. Those rumors had turned into whispers once Ford went from white knight to black king. This con was a testament to those rumors. It probably would have gone off without a hitch, too, if the FBI and Five-0 hadn't gotten involved and made targets of themselves.

His admiration stumbled and was replaced with a sobering fear.

Yakuza and Columbians. They weren't renowned for being nice people.

"Do you know who has Peter?" he asked.

Ford hummed. "According to our information, Medrano and Damon have them. But, if Medrano is using one of his hideouts, it may not be long before one of his business partners shows up at his doorstep."

"What's Medrano like?" he asked. He had to know how bad it was.

"Neal." Mozzie gave him a look.

"No. I have to know," he said and stared at Ford. "You've been working at framing him for what? A few weeks? Months? You know him. What's he like?"

Ford sighed. "He's a nasty piece of work. Smart, but not brilliant. He…well, he's got a temper."

Neal latched onto the hesitation. "What were you going to say?"

"Listen, kid, I know Peter. He's a tough guy, bit of a bulldog when it comes to cases. Kind of reminds me of myself, but nobler and with higher standards," Ford said. "We'll find him."

The assurance did little to thwart the panic building in him once again. "Medrano knows Peter, doesn't he."

Ford sat back in his chair, rubbing his ear with one finger. Neal thought he spied a nearly invisible earbud sitting in it. "Medrano doesn't like Peter. Blames him for the failure of the buy last year and for the FBI getting the painting again."

Neal pushed a hand through his hair. His gut twisted and he felt sick. "This is my fault."

"I beg to differ. The Suit was the one who decided to come to Hawaii under the radar and surprise Dirty Suit and Tells," Mozzie rebutted, pivoting in his seat to face Neal.

"But I was the one who found the evidence of Medrano being involved," Neal said.

Ford tapped his fingers on the table. "It's been a while since I've worked with Peter, but I'm pretty sure he suspected Medrano, too, or he wouldn't have greenlit this operation."

Neal swiveled to glance at the teams still at the smart table. The two Hawaiian cousins were working side by side, one pulling security footage from ATMs, traffic cameras, and shops and the other scouring satellite data. Catherine was assisting with that data. Diana and Jones were currently on their phones organizing FBI resources.

And McGarrett watched over them all with a severe look, severe enough Neal was astounded someone hadn't been incinerated by it yet.

"You know, my team was worried about getting our cover blown by you guys," Ford said offhandedly. He was watching the activity, too. "But it was actually Five-0 we were wary of."

Neal cocked his head to the side in question. "Why?"

"They don't play by the rules," Ford said.

"I think we've got them!" Kono called.

Neal sprang up from the chair and hurried over to the smart table. Ford was a bit slower, eyeing the data and hanging back.

"There's been some activity in this area over the last twenty-four hours," Catherine said, pointing toward a tree heavy part of the map. "The last place we caught footage of the vehicles involved in the attack was at this gas station here. Thanks to Mr. Ford's tracking data, we know this is where they must have found his man's earbud and tossed it. That leaves three areas they could have gone."

She drew a circle around them, tossing each section up onto a different hanging screen.

"So this one right here," Kono pointed to the one on the far left, "is an old military bunker. Something leftover from World War II. The satellites say there's been movement, but kids and people who like to search for old military supplies go up there sometimes."

"And this one here," Kelly gestured to the middle screen, "is an old sawmill. There's a trailhead not far from it, so any movement registering there could be hikers."

"What's this last one?" Diana questioned.

McGarrett crossed his arms over his chest. "Looks like another sawmill or storage facility."

"I say we hit them all," Jones said.

"I agree with Jones," McGarrett said. "Chin, I want you…."

Neal barely heard how the Commander divided up the teams. He was too focused on Ford, who was silently backing out of the bullpen.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

Ford jerked his head over his shoulder. "I'm going to go get my man."

He'd only heard about Ford's crew. He didn't know names or how many. Some marks had described twenty people being involved, others had said only two. Either way, he had a feeling Ford didn't leave anyone behind, and wherever Ford's man was at, he'd bet Peter was going to be there, too.

"Moz, keep me updated," Neal said and dashed out the door on Ford's heels.

* * *

Danny clenched his hands into fists over and over, trying to get blood flow back into them. He was still shaking off the drugs. Smith was still out cold next to his feet. Hopefully still alive.

It was Burke who was his worry at the moment.

No, no. They couldn't have just humans interrogating them. No. There had to be a dragon involved. By now, he shouldn't even be surprised. For dragons making up such a low percentage of the population, the Five-0 team sure ran into a lot of them. He couldn't speak for other law enforcement teams, but it was almost a rarity to run into a bad guy who wasn't at least a mixed blood. At least, that's how it seemed.

"After this is done and before I disappear out of the country, I'll be sure to pay your wife a visit and tell her how her husband died," the Drake growled.

Danny shook his head. His eyes finally adjusted to the dim light. The Drake probably only clocked in at barely five feet tall, but was built like a tank. Shoulders like a bull, a thick set of horns sprouting from his skull and jaw, dark dirt colored scales armoring his hide. He didn't think he was a muddy gene like Jupiter, so that meant he most likely wasn't bulletproof. It didn't matter, though, because any dragon up against a handcuffed human was a threat. Hell, another human would be a threat.

What had Burke called the guy? Medrano?

Medrano set about toying with Burke much like Jupiter had done to him and the team when they'd been in the Pit. Like a cat that was enjoying itself too much to kill the prey and end the game.

Danny shifted the scales out on his forearms.

The burst of adrenaline helped shrug off the worst of the fogginess in his head and numbness in his limbs.

He tensed, ready to get to his knees. The cuffs wouldn't break off unless he fully shifted, and that was under the assumption they were regular cuffs and not titanium alloy. As it was, he was pretty sure he was handcuffed with his own cuffs, which were not dragon proof. He should probably invest in a pair of titanium alloy cuffs.

The growl, thump, and following moan of pain made up his mind for him.

"You know, it's not really sporting to attack a man while he's handcuffed," he said as he got to his feet.

Tells' head of security and Medrano both snapped around to look at him.

"Don't move." The head of security leveled a gun at him.

Crap. He'd been so caught up in there being a dragon involved he'd spaced on the fact there was a high chance guns were involved, too. The cuffs he could break and the dragon he could take if fully shifted, but a bullet? Dragons were durable, not invincible.

He flexed his wrists. The chain would snap if he started to shift. He might get shot before his scales and plates reached their bullet resistant density. Screwed if he did, screwed if he didn't.

"You said the drugs were supposed to keep them under for a few hours," the head of security said.

"It could've killed them outright. There's no such thing as a perfect tranquilizer," Medrano grumbled.

Danny gritted his teeth as Medrano stepped over Burke, bracing one forefoot on the man's ribcage. It wouldn't take much to snap a few bones. It wouldn't take much to completely crush his chest, either.

"Hey, hey. You kill him, his people shoot you dead. You kill me, and the McGarrett Monster eats you," he said. Not exactly his best effort at talking down gunmen.

"Or I kill you, him, and that guy and then flee the country," Medrano said.

"You realize the McGarrett Monster is Commander McGarrett, right? As in, reserve Navy SEAL Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, a man who has been to every hellhole on earth and has the resources to hunt you down no matter where you go? That's the Commander McGarrett you're going to run from?" Danny rambled.

The head of security looked over his shoulder at Medrano. The dirty FBI agent was definitely the boss of the operation.

His arms strained against the chain linking the cuffs. The metal bit into his wrists as he slowly, carefully shifted more and more. Scales. Claws. Muscles began to twitch. There would be no slow going if he planned to break the cuffs.

"Shoot him. We don't need to be dragging a Five-0 hostage around with us," Medrano finally said.

The gun zeroed in on his chest and the head of security's finger tightened on the trigger. Fire pumped through Danny's veins as he started to shift completely.

And then everything abruptly stopped.

"I'm telling you, sweetheart, we're lost."

"What? The guy said to take a left at that gas station and then another left and then…oh. I guess we never passed the tree that looks like a naked lady, did we?"

Danny blinked.

What in the world?

The voices registered from last night. The man with the Southern drawl and the woman's voice. The one who had taken down Steve and the one who had tasered him.

Medrano and the head of security looked just as confused as the couple rounded a corner into the large empty space. The man was on the shorter side with a sturdy build and shoulder length hair pulled back into a ponytail. The woman was nothing like Danny had imagined. Young, thin, and blonde.

"Hey, this is private property. You two need to get out of here," the head of security ordered.

The man held up his hands in surrender. "Woah, sorry, man. Me and the misses took a wrong turn or somethin' and just need some directions and then we'll be out of your hair…or scales."

Medrano reared up on his hind legs and snarled.

"Or we'll just go now," the woman said. "Yeah, we'll just go. We didn't see anything."

"I don't think so." Medrano lunged forward and grabbed for the man while the head of security backed up to grab the woman's arm.

"Easy, there, Mr. Grabby," the man said as claws wrapped around his bicep.

Then, with one of the boldest moves Danny had ever witnessed, the man punched Medrano in the hollow of his nasal cavity. Medrano howled and let go. The woman headbutted the head of security and swept his legs out from under him.

"Get Hardison. I'll hold off Medrano," the man said.

"What about Burke and the Five-0 guy?" the woman asked as she grabbed the dropped gun and kicked the head of security for good measure.

Danny finally formed some words. "Hey, Five-0 guy can hear you."

"I don't know, Parker, just get them clear!" the man yelled.

Medrano had engaged the man in a deadly dance in the far end of the room. Danny had never seen a human fight hand-to-hand with a dragon and was sure a person would have to have a screw loose to do so.

Then again, he'd taken on Jupiter. But he'd gotten his butt kicked.

Suddenly, the blonde, Parker, was behind him picking the lock on the cuffs. They clattered to the floor in under ten seconds.

"Man. Didn't beat my record," she muttered and moved on to the man still on the floor, whose name was apparently Hardison, not George Smith. "Alec, hey, wake up."

Danny rubbed his wrists. "They drugged us. Not sure with what. You get him moved, I'll get Burke."

To his surprise, she managed to drag Hardison to his feet despite how many inches and pounds he had on her. She was halfway across the warehouse by time Danny was kneeling by Burke.

"You still alive?" he asked. He searched his pockets for the cuff key.

Burke groaned. "Yeah. You good?"

"Better than you, babe," he said. He unlocked the cuffs and swung one of Burke's arms over his shoulders. It was a bear to get up off the floor with busted ribs, he should know, but Burke managed with only a few guttural sounds. "Sorry you got dragged into the Five-0 craziness yet again."

"Gonna tell El we're never vacationing in Hawaii," Burke hissed. He paused and swept his eyes over the floor. "My ring."

Danny picked out the gold against the gray concrete and snatched it up. He handed it to Burke who worked it back onto his ring finger. They continued their rushed exit, sparing the fight between the man and Medrano a bewildered look as they edged around them.

A Transit van was parked in the leafy green shrubbery outside. The back doors were thrown open wide and Parker had haphazardly thrown Hardison inside. Danny set Burke on the tailgate.

"We need to go," he said.

"Nope," Parker said, cocking the gun in her hand. "Not without Eliot."

"You don't use guns," Burke murmured.

Danny's brows shot up to his hairline. His hands waved out wildly. "You know her?"

"Know of her," Burke said and cracked a small grin at the blonde.

She gave him a smile on the verge of being psychotic.

Danny shook his head. It was too much at one time for him to process. He held out his hand. "Give me the gun. I'll go back in and get your friend."

And possibly get himself mauled by Medrano or be forced to shift with a lot of unknown people around.

Parker puffed out her cheeks in a breath and quickly stripped the gun, tossing it in the back of van without much thought. "Eliot doesn't like guns anyway."

There was a roar from inside the warehouse. No, wait. It wasn't a warehouse. It was a sawmill. Huh. He'd been wrong with his initial judgement. That would explain the dust on the floor, though.

"You sure you don't want me to go in there and, you know, make sure your buddy doesn't become a chew toy?" Danny asked. A sneaking suspicion was beginning to grow that whoever these people were, they could handle themselves, which would account for Parker's nonchalant attitude.

There was another roar, deeper and angrier.

"Nah." Parker nodded approvingly. "He's good."

The sound of an engine thundering up the dirt road drew their attention south. A Jeep pushed through the overgrown fronds and low hanging leaves. Yet another man Danny didn't recognize was in the driver's seat. He did know who was in the passenger seat.

"Peter?"

He didn't think he'd heard Caffrey sound panicked before. The young CI jumped out of the Jeep and raced for the back of the van, eyes rapidly taking in the damage done to his handler.

"Are you okay?" Caffrey asked.

"I'll live," Burke answered.

The relieved hug they shared reminded Danny of him and Steve every time they managed to survive some horrible incident.

The older man that had been driving the Jeep checked on Hardison and then looked at Parker. "He okay?"

"Still breathing. Eliot will have to check him out," she said.

Burke gave a calculated exhale and faced the newcomer. "Didn't think I'd run into you again, Nate."

"Didn't think you'd get tangled up with one of our jobs," Nate said. "That's why we avoid New York."

"Is it, now?" Burke asked, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"Yeah. That and other reasons," Nate said. Then the dark haired, blue eyed man turned toward Danny. "Detective Williams. Your partner was prepared to burn down the island to find you."

"What else is new? Did you at least let the animal know you found us?" Danny sighed.

"He should be here any minute," Nate said.

"Good." Danny frowned and gestured between them all. "Who are you people, anyway, huh?"

"Hmm?" Nate looked at him curiously. "I'm an insurance investigator with IYS. This is my team."

"Bull," Burke hissed.

"Easy, Peter, easy." Caffrey put an arm around his back. He pulled his jacket aside and winced at the bloody scratches marring one side of his ribcage. "You need a doctor."

"You guys can take the Jeep," Nate said.

Parker nodded and leapt into the back of the van.

The other man, Eliot, came jogging out of the sawmill with a slight limp and a bleeding cut on his forehead. He was also pulling his shirt back down over his head.

"We gotta go," he growled and jumped in the driver's side of the van.

Caffrey steadied Burke.

"No. Nate," Burke warned.

Nate grinned slyly as he climbed into the passenger seat. "I'm sure we'll see each other again, Peter."

The Transit van bounced through the brush, taking a side road that must have looped around the sawmill. It had only just disappeared from sight when the cavalry arrived. The Silverado, Traverse, a black SUV loaded with FBI agents, and two HPD squad cars surrounded the place.

First out of the vehicles, of course, was Steve.

"What'd you do? Rescue yourself?" Steve asked as he approached.

Danny held out his arms. "You know, I'm not a damsel in distress. I'm a trained officer of the law and managed to survive before I met you."

The tight hug he received confirmed that his partner was worried about him. Being drugged and cuffed in an unfamiliar place had brought back unpleasant memories for him, and he assumed it had done the same for Steve.

"Seriously. What happened?" Steve questioned.

Jones and Diana rushed over.

"Medrano was going to town on Burke and I jumped up without a fully thought out plan," Danny said. He'd tell Steve later about his hesitancy to shift. "And then the two that attacked me and you last night? Yeah, they showed up."

"What?"

"They're part of Ford's team," Caffrey said.

Burke huffed for breath for a moment. "They're thieves."

Steve rounded on Caffrey. "You said he was an insurance investigator."

"I didn't say anything," Caffrey defended.

"Mozzie," the three FBI agents echoed.

"Come on, Boss, let's get you to the hospital," Diana said. She and Caffrey led Burke over to one of the waiting vehicles.

Steve looked around at the flurry of activity and settled his hands on his hips. "What the hell just happened?"

"I have no clue," Danny said. He flapped a hand toward the sawmill. "But, Medrano is a dragon and I think he's been subdued. Also, Tells' head of security is in there, also subdued."

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. He barked out a few instructions to the officers and agents. Danny combed his fingers through his hair. He could really do with a cup of coffee and a cold shower. It was so humid he was nearly soaked. He hated mornings like this.

"What about the painting?" Steve asked.

Danny shrugged. "From what I understand, that's why Medrano grabbed us. He was looking for it."

"And Ford and his team?" Steve asked.

"Gone." He mimicked where they'd driven off to with his hands. "All hopped into a Transit van and disappeared like–"

"Thieves in the night?" Steve suggested.

* * *

Peter had ditched the hospital as soon as he could. X-rays had revealed several cracked ribs, but no broken ones. The scratches from Medrano's claws had been cleaned and stitched. No sign of concussion. Just a headache easily treated with over the counter medication and coffee.

He managed to catch his CI alone outside of the Palace before they went in to debrief over the whole situation. He waved Jones and Diana on ahead.

"Neal."

"Are you sure you should be up and about?" Neal asked.

"You're one to talk."

He looked bedraggled and dead on his feet tired. Peter empathized with him. That's what having a close friend kidnapped would do to a person. He should know. Neal did it to him on a nearly regular basis.

"I'm fine. It's just cuts and bruises, remember?" he said. He set his left hand on Neal's shoulder, not quite having full range of his right arm with the bruising on his shoulder. "Did you know about Nate being here?"

Neal's face fell. He shook his head. "I didn't know he was even on the island until Mozzie brought him in to help look for you."

"Neal," Peter implored.

"I'm telling the truth. I don't lie to you, remember?" Neal said. "If it wasn't for him, we wouldn't have found you in time."

"And I'm grateful he helped," he said. They walked side by side across the parking lot toward the building. "Did he say anything about the painting?"

Neal's shoulders hitched up in a shrug. "He didn't confirm or deny anything. He did tell us that his team orchestrated the takedown of Medrano and massive chunks of the Yakuza and Columbian gangs here on the island, but we got in the way of Medrano's takedown."

Once upon a time, Nate had been an honest man and he had enjoyed working with him once in a blue moon. Now, he wasn't too sure what he had become. "I don't know what he thinks he is, playing Robin Hood like this."

"I think his crew's motto is 'Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys'," Neal said with a bright smile.

He _tsked_ disapprovingly. "We follow the law and we get justice that way. Remember that, Neal."

Neal nodded, but Peter knew he sided with Nate's way of thinking. Inwardly, he couldn't help but see where the ex-insurance investigator was coming from and could see the allure of working without rules.

"Nate's a good man, Peter."

He sighed. "I know."

* * *

It was all over. Finally. Tells, Medrano, and Damon the head of security had been arrested. HPD, Interpol, and the local FBI office had gotten a flood of tips and evidence leading to the arrests of several members of the gangs Medrano had been involved with. It wasn't clear where the evidence had come from, and it left Five-0 confused, but not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth.

What loose ends that hadn't been tied yet were the missing painting and the supposed team of thieves that had escaped without a trace. Five-0 had their feelers out, but they were running on fumes. They needed at least the rest of the evening off to recoup.

"Burke's wife isn't going to let him leave New York anymore," Danny commented as his team packed up for the day.

"Murphy's Law," Kono said. "Our new motto should be 'When it rains, it pours' or 'Never ask how can it get any worse'."

"It's _lolo_." Chin shook his head.

"Hey, you guys want to go grab a drink from the Hilton later? It's on me," Steve asked as they headed toward the elevator.

Danny had noticed that their fearless leader liked to gather his team in close like a mother hen after a rough day. It was kind of funny, but understandable. And he couldn't turn down drinks if Steve was offering to buy.

"Let me swing by my house and take a shower first. I smell pretty ripe," Danny said.

Kono experimentally sniffed her armpit and scrunched up her face. "Yeah, I think I'll take a shower, too. Nervous sweat reeks."

"Five o'clock?"

"Sounds good, brah."

Danny stood next to Steve as the elevator descended, marveling at how quickly they seemed to bounce back to normal. He'd been handcuffed in the jungle this morning and now he was going for drinks with his friends. He wondered if Burke and his team sprang back to their feet as quickly as they did.

"I think we should chip you."

"Excuse me?" He looked up at his partner. "Did you just say you want to chip me like a dog?"

Steve smirked. "It'd make it easier to find you when you get kidnapped."

"You're a Neanderthal."

"You love me, Danno."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You big oaf."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Danny gets a bit of information concerning Shamrock.**

 **Art page has been updated!**

 **Phew. That was a task I unknowingly took on. Sorry it was a little Five-0-lite.** **Didn't expect this thing to get so large. I also managed to not include a few scenes I really wanted to, but no longer fit the more I worked on the chapter. I'm thinking Leverage will have to come back for a Round 2.**

 **Was I crazy? Was it worth it? Thank you guys for continuing to read, review, fave, and follow no matter what craziness I spew at you!**


	106. Fact 92

**I'm so enjoying the warm weather and green grass popping up. Ready for summer, even if it messes with my writing.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #92: All the animals in the jungle know when a predator is about to attack.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

Hot shower, fresh clothes, an ice cold beer or perhaps something stronger, and a night with his team sounded heavenly right about now. Danny dug his house keys out of his pocket as he walked up the sidewalk from the carport. All he needed was Grace by his side and he'd be complete. Unfortunately, tonight was not a night he had with her.

He sighed as he pushed open his door. He had this weekend with her but two days away felt like forever.

Shutting the door with his foot, he turned to the keypad on the wall to shut the alarm system off, and then blinked slowly. It was already off.

His gun was in his hand and pointing toward the kitchen in under a second.

"No need for that, Detective," the man said.

Danny didn't lower his weapon. Eyes darting around his living room and hallways, he slowly crept closer. It was the Nate guy, the one Burke had said was a thief. The one they currently had their feelers out for.

"What're you doing in my house?" he questioned.

Nate picked up the glass by his hand and tipped the rest of the amber liquid back into his mouth. "Irish whiskey. Expensive. A little out of a cop's budget range, don't you think?"

Keeping his gun leveled with one hand, Danny reached into his pants pocket to retrieve his phone.

"Shamrock gifts generously, so I've heard."

Danny paused. "Who are you? How do you know Shamrock?"

Nate rocked back on his heels and shrugged. "I'm just a guy trying to keep the world in balance."

"You're a thief."

"Thief, grifter, mastermind, grieving father, sinner, saint, whatever you want to call me," Nate said. "The question is, Detective, why is Shamrock giving you whiskey?"

Danny, deciding the thief wasn't there to kill him, shoved his gun back in its holster. He settled a hand on his hip and fluttered the other out in a gesture. "I don't know. If you've met her, you know how she is."

Nate chuckled. "She must have a soft spot for you."

He narrowed his eyes at him. "Do you work for her? Is that what this whole thing was about? She hired your team to steal the painting, to set up Tells and Medrano or whatever, right?"

"I don't work for her. I don't work for anybody. Neither does my team," Nate said. His dark eyes sharpened. "I came by as a curtesy."

"Oh? You broke into my house and drank my booze as a curtesy, huh?" Danny perked a brow at him.

"Be honest. You don't drink the whiskey she gives you. Bribe or not, you don't like the idea of being in someone's debt," Nate said as he stepped back from the kitchen counter. Hands in his pockets, he wandered closer to Danny. "Between me and you, something happened in Hawaii last time she was here and now she's got something in motion."

Danny frowned. He didn't trust random strangers who had broken into his house, but what Nate was saying jived with what he'd heard from Mags. And Mags had only heard it from X-Files. It must have been a disturbance felt in the criminal underworld first.

"Do you know what happened? Because my team is coming up short," Danny finally said.

Nate stared. After a moment's silent internal debate, he said, "No. Whatever it was, it was significant. She has the rich and elite stirred up and the Dragons' Rights Division of the FBI has started humming."

"What? What in the hell would she be doing to get the FBI's attention? Everything she does is on the down low specifically so she won't attract attention," Danny objected.

"Oh, no. They don't suspect her. She's only a business owner," Nate said, though his tone suggested the two of them knew otherwise. "And anyone who points a finger at her gets chewed up by her lawyer. Or reassigned."

His heart skipped a beat. She had been the one to get him transferred to Hawaii. Had he gotten too close to something? Or had she really done it on a whim? That question hadn't plagued him until now.

"You know," Nate said quietly, "my team and I may have helped orchestrate the fall of Tells and Medrano, but there's something else you should know about Medrano."

"Let me guess. He's one of Shamrock's men?" Danny said.

Nate cocked his head to the side, eyes going hard and cold. "He helped with transportation for Marilyn Walker's operation."

The icy fingers of panic slithered up his ribcage and around his heart at the mere mention of the woman. "He what? I thought we got most of them?"

"You've done good, for people who have to follow the laws," Nate said. He smirked briefly. "But, for the ones you didn't get, people like me and my team clean up the rest of the mess."

Danny combed his fingers through his hair.

"And you know the interesting thing about that?" Nate asked.

"I'm not sure I want to know."

"That piece of information showed up on our doorstep anonymously."

Danny worried his bottom lip. The pieces of the puzzle he didn't know he had been working on were starting to fall into place. The picture was still vague and indiscernible, but it was there and he could see it.

"Someone's tying up loose ends," he said.

Nate patted him on the shoulder as he walked by him. "You're a good detective, Williams. I'm sure you'll figure it out. And Detective?"

Danny turned and looked at him.

"You should only worry when the jungle gets quiet."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", what exactly does the Dragons' Rights Division do?**

 **Sorry this week was short, but as you can tell, I'm setting stuff up. I don't know if I'm setting myself up for something awesome or for a major wreck, but I'm setting it up. ;)**

 **Thank you guys for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	107. Fact 93

**Ahahahaha...I have no clue what I'm doing.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading and helping me through my cluelessness!**

* * *

 **Fact #93: Inside the FBI, there's a division that handles all things dragons, from crimes committed by or to them, to relics stolen from history. They're called the Dragons' Rights Division.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

"Why didn't you call me?" Steve questioned as soon as Danny sat down.

"I did." Danny crossed his legs and slouched in the chair.

"After the fact," Steve huffed.

The Hilton bustled with life around them. Not as busy as it would be on Friday and Saturday nights, but busy enough to make the place feel lived in and filled with chatter. A waitress stopped by, introduced herself, and took their orders.

Kono waited until the waitress was out of earshot. "A known thief was in your house and you didn't even call HPD?"

Danny held his hands up in a 'hold on' gesture. "You haven't heard the good part yet, the reason why Nate Ford was in my house drinking my whiskey."

His teammates leaned in, figuratively and literally on the edge of their seats.

"He wanted to talk about Shamrock."

"What?" Steve barked.

Danny nodded. "He knew the whiskey was from her. Wondered why I had it. But all of this is just a preamble. He then tells me that we were right. The last time Shamrock was here, something happened. I don't know if it had to do with Uchibayashi, or more likely the secret meeting she had later, but whatever it was gave her enough momentum to get something rolling."

"What do you mean?" Kono asked.

"She either got a new business partner or deal, or got a hold of some valuable information, or money, or whatever else she could need and want. Whatever it was, he said it's got the wealthy stirred up and has attracted the attention of the DRD of the FBI."

"Didn't Mags say your informant mentioned something about a criminal resurfacing and the powers in the shadows moving, or some crap like that?" Steve asked.

They fell silent as the waitress brought a tray over and placed their drinks on the napkins, promising them that their food would be right out before walking away.

"Yeah," Danny said. He took a long swig from his beer and stared at the grains on the wooden table solemnly.

"Why would the Dragons' Rights Division be getting involved?" Kono asked. "I'm still not exactly sure what they are."

Chin placed his beer back on the napkin and folded his hands on the table. "The DRD handles crimes involving dragons, whether they're the perpetrators or the victims. Of course, it has to be a known fact that a dragon is involved before they're allowed to take control."

"It's not a real big division," Danny said, glad to have something else to talk about while he mulled over the several vague warnings he'd gotten from people over the last week. "They get stretched pretty thin."

"They helped us get IDs on the dragons off the ships and helped arrest suspects on the mainland," Steve added.

Danny's hand fluttered out. "So, this Nate guy also mentioned something else to me."

"What?"

"Medrano helped with transportation for the Breeders," he said.

Steve exhaled heavily and slammed his bottle down on the table. It didn't crack at the impact, thankfully. "How did we miss him?"

Chin's face lit up. "Think about it. How did Marilyn go undetected for so many years?"

Kono's mouth gaped open in realization. "She had authorities on her payroll. People like Medrano that could derail any investigations before they could get any traction."

"And we missed him," Steve grumbled.

"I wonder how many more agents are still out there," Kono muttered.

Danny raised his brows. "Maybe that's what the DRD is in a frenzy about."

"Okay, okay. I know we shared case files with them last year, but I'm feeling like a rookie still. Explain to me what it is. Are they their own division or are they a part of other divisions in the FBI? What do they do?" Kono asked.

Danny puffed out a breath. "Take notes, young padawan."

* * *

 _On a plane somewhere over the Pacific…._

Neal glanced sideways at Peter as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was going to be a long way home if he was already having issues this early into the flight.

"You okay?" he asked, though he knew the answer.

Peter grimaced. "Ribs just ache."

"How's the head?" He pointed to the bruising on his cheekbone.

"It's settled to a dull roar," Peter said with a tired grin.

Neal nodded. He'd been scuffed up quite bit during his time as a conman and during some of the heists he'd allegedly pulled. Busted some ribs, chipped a tooth, received a mild concussion from a very angry man. Dragons weren't something he had often faced, though.

"Bet you thought White Collar would be a lot safer than what it's turned out to be," he said with a teasing smirk.

"I wasn't always White Collar. Got transferred there and then met El right afterwards," Peter said. He frowned at the laptop sitting on the tray table in front of him and went back to typing up his report, slow though he was. "I wanted to be part of the DRD when I was in Quantico."

"Really?" Neal couldn't imagine him being anything other than a White Collar agent, despite the admittance he had almost become a number cruncher.

"Oh yeah." Peter looked across at him. "They travel a lot. Cover financial, white collar, violent, organized crime, public corruption, civil rights violations, and drug related crime. Pretty much anything you could ever want to work on."

"But we investigate dragons in White Collar," Neal said.

"That's because the DRD isn't able to cover all the crimes that involve dragons. You ever notice how the crimes we get are art, forgery, or financial crimes first, and involve dragons second?"

"The perpetrator or victim just so happens to be a dragon, though it has no bearing on the crime," he said.

"Right. I wanted to work with one of the elite teams in the DRD."

"One of the elite teams? You mean the teams that go head to head with cannibalistic dragons or Wyverns that torch buildings?" He perked a brow.

"I was young," Peter defended, shrugging. He winced and rubbed a hand over his right shoulder. "I just wanted to work with Agent Galmann."

Neal chuckled. "Do I smell a bit of hero worship, Peter?"

"You. Zip it."

* * *

Kono tilted her beer with her brows furrowed. "So they cover a variety of things?"

"Yes," Danny said.

"They work in counterterrorism, too," Steve added. It figured, of course, that if he had run across the DRD before, it would have involved the counterterrorism group.

"How come the FBI branch here doesn't have a DRD team? We had to get help from the mainland with the whole Breeders operation," Kono asked.

"Like I said, they're restricted by resources." Danny set his beer aside and picked at the appetizers that had arrived. Pulling the chips and guacamole a little closer to himself, he gestured with one hand while scooping with the other. "From what I understand, they have a handful of elite teams that rotate around the different branches, but stay in the bigger cities where there are likely to be more problems and more of a need for special forces."

"There was a snafu back when I was still new in the SEALs," Steve started. He thanked the waitress as she brought a second round of beers and then returned to his story. "Can't get into the details, but it involved someone smuggling artifacts out of the Middle East. My team got tangled up with some DRD agents working the stateside of the investigation."

* * *

 _Santa Barbara, California…._

"I swear, Spencer, make a fool of me or the department in front of these Dragons' Rights agents and they won't know where to find your body," Detective Lassiter said, looming over the psychic and his partner.

"Lassie, is that a threat or a promise?" Shawn asked.

Gus elbowed him in the ribs. "We'll stay out of the way, Detective."

Lassie snorted. He looked ready to argue the chances of Shawn staying out of anything, but just finished strapping on his tac vest and headed over to join the group of darkly dressed agents making the final touches to their breaching plans.

"Hey."

The two pivoted as Juliet walked toward them, a tac vest in each hand.

"If you two are going to be stubborn and hang around here, at least wear these," she said.

Gus eagerly grabbed one, mumbling about how he'd rather be at the office versus possibly risking his life to see the inside of a warehouse that may or may not be empty.

"Jules, you know I'm not a fan of these ugly corsets," Shawn said lightly.

Juliet shoved the tac vest into his chest anyway. "Wear it, or I'm locking you in the back of a patrol car."

Shawn frowned as she stalked over to Lassie, checking her gun as she did, like some beautiful femme fatale that he was still getting shot down by.

"Can you believe this, Gus?" he asked. When he glanced at Gus, his partner was strapping the last strap snugly into place. "Gus! Are you for real?"

"I choose life, Shawn," Gus retorted.

"Who needs a vest when you've got these babies?" Shawn flashed a forearm covered in walnut and cream scales.

Gus slapped his arm down. "Cut that out. Number one, unlike you, I don't have scales as dense as my head. Number two, you aren't bulletproof."

"Am too," Shawn defended, though he let his scales disappear. For now. He grabbed Gus' shoulder. "Looks like the party's about to start. Come on."

While the SBPD officers and DRD agents surrounded the warehouse and knocked down doors on each side, Shawn waited for the fireworks. He had not-so psychically discovered their artifact thieves were violent and would probably take a shot at a squirrel if it happened to be in their line of sight.

The fireworks never came. They must have cleared out before they got there.

Juliet walked outside and motioned with a flick of her fingers for them to come in. "You guys need to see this."

"Oh. My God," Gus breathed, grabbing Shawn's shoulder for support as soon as they walked into the warehouse.

"And you said I was a hoarder," Shawn said. He slipped out of his friend's grasp and headed or the nearest assortment of objects. He lifted up a heavy rusted chain with a fine layer of dust on it. "Woah. Got some serious S and M stuff going on here."

An agent he didn't know grunted and took the chain out of his hands. "This is from one of George Vandilan's traps. Not many of them survived to this century."

"Agent Hyde, would you say all of the items in here are dragon related relics of some sort?" Lassie asked with a certain kind of reverence for the agent that made Shawn roll his eyes.

She flipped the visor up on her helmet and glanced around the warehouse, at the multiple stacks of wooden crates packed with all kinds of things not immediately identifiable.

"Let's just say we're going to need more than a few DRD agents to sort through all of this."

* * *

"What do they do with all the artifacts and jewelry and stuff they seize?" Kono asked after she polished off her seventh chicken wing.

Danny shrugged. "Burke told me they try to get it back to museums or the rightful owners, but a lot of it winds up sitting in FBI evidence warehouses."

"Shame," Chin sighed. He rolled the bottom edge of his beer bottle along the table in thought. "I'd love to be able to look in one of those warehouses."

"Probably have some real Indiana Jones type of stuff in them." Kono's eyes sparkled as her imagination let loose.

"I'd prefer my face stay on my skull and not melted into a puddle, thank you," Danny said.

"Oh, come on, partner, aren't you at least a bit curious?" Steve asked with a smirk.

"Nope. Curiosity killed the cat and all that," he said.

He plucked a dumpling off of one of the plates while the team fell into a quiet lull. The place was becoming a little noisier as tourists came in off the streets, tired and hungry from a day full of exploring and spending their money on overly priced trinkets. He glanced at his phone briefly. Six o'clock.

"Sorry I'm late, guys."

Steve stood up to greet Cath and pulled her chair out for her. She slumped down into it gratefully.

"You guys ate everything," she said, laughing.

"No. We left you those crumbs." Danny pointed to the lone pieces that had flaked off the chicken wings.

"We ordered more," Steve said.

The lull returned. Danny stared at the grains of wood on the table, running his finger over the clear sealant on it. He wondered what type of wood it was. Or if it was real wood at all. He grimaced. Fake wood and plywood did not have a pleasant taste when he burned them in his stoking chamber. Neither did sealant.

"Well, don't let me kill the fun," Cath said. She rolled her eyes and waved a hand at them.

Chin grinned. "Sorry. We had been talking about the DRD."

Cath secured her beer in her hand when it arrived. She sipped and then raised a brow. "The DRD has some interesting characters involved in it. Some mean lawyers, too."

"You should meet Shamrock's lawyer. Big bark and a big bite," Danny said. He shook his head. "I don't think I've come across any DRD lawyers, other than the ones we had been emailing while they were building a case against Jeffrey and Marilyn. But, I didn't meet them face to face."

"What were you doing that had you running across DRD lawyers?" Steve asked, wearing what Danny would dub a mild version of Aneurism Face.

"It was classified," Cath said and hid her mischievous smile behind her beer bottle.

"Thank you! Finally, someone else pulled the classified card on him." Danny clapped.

Steve scrunched his face at him. "You pull the classified card on me all the time."

"Uh, no. I pull the 'it's personal and none of your business, you need to drop it right now, you Neanderthal animal' card on you. It's different."

"Ah." Steve cocked a crooked grin at him.

"So," Kono drawled out. "Mean lawyers, huh?"

"Not all of them. But the kind that pull out all stops to get justice," Cath said. "The kind that don't lose very often."

* * *

 _TAC building, New York City…._

"Are pigs flying? Did Hell freeze over?" Doctor Bull crowed from amidst the jungle of technology in the office space. "There's a DRD lawyer in my presence."

"Hey, I'm not so proud that I can't admit when I need help," the female lawyer standing next to Benny said.

"Bull, this is Toni Velasquez," Benny introduced.

Bull shook her hand. Though he towered over her, he could tell she was like Benny: small but packed a punch. He led them toward his office away from the rest of the hustle and bustle of TAC.

"What is it you're wanting, Miss Velasquez?" Bull asked as he sat behind his desk.

"Toni's fine," she said and remained standing. "I'll get straight to the point. I've gone through Hell with litigation on my current case and am going to have to take it to trial."

"You don't like going to trial," Bull surmised.

"Juries are too wild and unpredictable." Toni shoved her fingers through her short curly hair and sighed. She dropped her hand to her hip. "Normally, I'd trust my own instincts in a trial, but with this case…."

Bull frowned. This didn't bode well. "Why don't you tell me what case it is? Who's your client?"

"Bella Clements," she said. "We're going up against a cop. Or two. Or several."

Benny shrugged apologetically when Bull glared his way.

"This wouldn't happen to be that incident involving the dragon shifting and getting shot by the NYPD, would it?" Bull asked.

"The one where the bodycams are kind of sketchy with exactly what happened and the department is backing up the officer responsible for nearly killing my client? My client who has a very different and creditable story about what went down? That one?" Toni raised her brows. Her other hand settled on her hip. "Yeah. That's the one."

Bull removed his glass and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "What exactly are you hoping for, Toni?"

"A fair trial and an unbiased jury. Barring that, a miracle worker," Toni said. When he looked up at her she grinned. "Good thing that's what I've heard you are."

* * *

"No!" Cath nearly choked on the calamari in her mouth as Chin wrapped up his story. "You're kidding. That really happened?"

"Yes. And to this day, that's why I don't like lawyers," he said.

The same could be said for most of them. Of course, Danny had known a few good defenders and prosecutors back in Jersey and a few from New York, but he often ran across the kind that badgered the arresting officer in depositions and pre-trial or were so high above the rest of mortal men they treated all of it like a game.

"I'm surprised we don't have more lawyers breathing down our necks with how fast and loose we play it sometimes," Danny said under his breath.

"We get the job done. That's what counts," Steve said. "We get bad guys off the streets."

"And if we screw up, a lawyer may not be able to put them away and they might go free," he objected.

"That's why the Governor gave us immunity–"

"–and means, I know." Danny combed his fingers through his hair and sat back in his seat. "I'm just waiting for it, you know? Waiting for a big case to fall through because we bluffed a warrant or used less than savory means to get an answer out of a suspect. Or waiting for the media to catch wind that one of us, or worse, all of us, are…you know."

"Not gonna happen, bud." Steve reached over and clapped him on the shoulder.

"You don't know–"

"Hey," Steve said. "We're _ohana_ , remember? No matter what happens, we'll get through it together. No one's going to go it alone, got it?"

"Wow." Danny stared at him. He chuckled. "That was a great pep talk. You should be an inspirational speaker."

"Shut up, Danno."

* * *

 _Somewhere in New York…._

Shamrock didn't look up at the light knock on her door, instead focusing on the ledger and records in front of her on the old oak writing desk. "What is it, Joey?"

"Sorry to disturb you, ma'am," her bodyguard said. "Are you free for a moment?"

She sat back and set her pencil down. "I believe so."

Joey approached. He held a cheap burner phone out to her. "It's Mr. Dunbar."

"He's early," she commented quietly. Taking the phone off him, she held it up to her ear and laid her Irish accent on thick. "Who is this?"

Joey stood by while she talked. He knew from experience that the codes exchanged over the call were complex in telling whether or not they were being listened to, who was listening if they were, or if it was all clear and they were allowed to speak freely. There was a reason Shamrock had yet to be in cuffs.

" _Slán_ _leat._ " She flipped the phone over and pulled the battery and sim card out, handing them back to him to take care of. "We'll need to have arrangements taken care of for him. Is my meeting set for tomorrow?"

"Board meeting in the morning, then lunch with Mr. Specter to finalize the details of the deal with Uchibayashi," he answered.

"Good. The Asian shipping routes will open new avenues," she said.

"May I speak freely?" he asked.

"Yes."

"With Wo Fat in prison, are you planning on filling his niche for the Pacific trade routes?"

"He allowed his empire to crumble underneath his feet over the last few years," she said. "Oahu is too hot to move goods through, at least with Five-0 in operation. His mistake was becoming cocky and letting a personal vendetta rule over his actions. I don't plan on following in his footsteps."

Joey perked a brow. "Speaking of personal…."

She closed the ledger and started to gather up the records. "You're curious as to what I found."

He shrugged. "A little. You've been devoting a lot of time to it lately."

"Details aren't to be overlooked," she said. She stood up gracefully. "But, I believe I've sorted the majority of the tangled web. The child the Farthings are looking for?"

Joey clenched his teeth and nodded. "The no refund baby?"

"He's in London," she said. "With his mother, Tamarin Noble."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", a dragon celebrity of sorts makes an appearance on the island.**

 **I think the purpose of a chapter like this was more to show you guys that there's lots of stuff going on in other fandoms involved in this AU. Or, to show you guys I've got a screw loose. I dunno. *shrugs***

 **Thank you for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	108. Fact 94

**I'm doing a thing. Check out the thing at the end note.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #94: If graffiti changed anything, it would be illegal.**

 **-Banksy**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

Dragging his feet, weary from a long day at work, Toast made his way to the beat up junker in the corner of the parking lot of the Buy More. He had spent most of his day in the basement fixing computers for customers instead of out on installs like he normally was. He was also the last to leave.

Halos of light from the lamps in the parking lot left big patches of darkness. He clutched his shoulder bag strap tighter and fumbled for his keys. His life of crime almost seemed safer versus trying to make an honest living in the real world. He didn't have to walk through dark parking lots when he was a hacker. He also didn't have to go undercover for Five-0 when it suited them and almost get killed.

Toast breathed out a breath of relief when he made it to the car and unlocked the door.

He paused.

What was that sound? It sounded like hissing.

Heartbeat quickening, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck, he swallowed and stayed still. There it was again. Fear paralyzed him to the spot. Should he turn around? What if he turned around and came face to face with a snake, or worse, a creepy dude that was hissing?

What if it was a gas leak? Was it his car?

Toast backpedaled. Would someone rig a bomb to his car? Or was it so crappy it would just explode by itself?

Or maybe he was just paranoid.

He cocked his head to the side as the hissing resumed. Then he heard the telltale sound of a spray paint can shaking.

"Oh, thank God." He released his held breath in a big whoosh of air. It was probably a kid tagging one of the buildings.

Curious now rather than terrified, he glanced around the buildings framing the sides of the parking lot and the Buy More. In the days of his misspent youth, he had known a few taggers and done a little bit himself. He had never been very good at it. Lines of code were more his style.

Finally, he inclined his head. His jaw dropped.

"Woah," he whispered.

Hanging from a seemingly invisible handhold on the tall building next door, five stories up, an Arboreal dragon was busily spray painting a bold picture on the west facing wall. He couldn't quite make out what it was in the dark, could only see vague shapes, but he had an idea of who this was.

Suddenly, working late had become a good thing.

* * *

Danny massaged his forehead. He'd rather be at the office working on his Shamrock case between filling out paperwork for other cases. But no, as soon as he'd arrived at the Palace, Steve had snatched the keys for the Camaro and hopped in the driver's seat, stating there was something they needed to check out.

"Why are we heading this way, again?" he asked.

"We need to see this," Steve said vaguely.

"Why?"

"Governor's orders."

"Isn't that what HPD is for? We have our own backlog of cases. When did we become the team that solves gas station store robberies and petty crimes, huh? I thought we were supposed to handle the big stuff, threats to national security, organized crime, terrorists, weird things that the HPD doesn't want to touch with a ten foot pole," he ranted, hands flitting through the space in front of him.

"I…volunteered us."

"You what?"

Steve shrugged, eyes darting from the road to him and back to the road. "I thought you could use a break."

"No, no, you see, the reason why I can never get anything accomplished is because there are too many breaks and distractions," Danny said.

"So, you had something?"

"Maybe. You know how I told you that Mags' and my old informant X-Files was in Denver during BeastCon?" he asked.

Steve nodded.

"Well, I decided that instead of snooping around here or New York where Shamrock is concerned, I was going to check that out instead," he said.

"And?"

He worried his bottom lip and lifted one hand in a loose gesture. "And, I'm not sure if what I found is relevant or not."

"What'd you find?" Steve asked. He guided the Camaro into an empty spot on the unusually busy street.

"A residential fire. It's just kind of there, though, you know? None of the names connected to it are associated with Shamrock or the Breeders or really anything criminal. It just felt odd," Danny said.

As they climbed out of the car, Steve looked across the top at him. "Trust your gut, partner. I'll help you look into it. Maybe it's something, maybe not."

"Woah, hold up. Freeze. Stop." Danny threw his hands in the air. "Did you just tell me to trust my gut?"

"Yeah." Steve started to walk away.

"No, this is just weird. You don't trust any gut but your own. When you have a feeling on something, we're just supposed to roll with it, but when I have a feeling on it, you question it. Why are you so supportive all of the sudden?"

"Because last time I didn't trust your gut, a building blew up and I wound up with a stalker," Steve explained as if he should've known that's what he was thinking.

"Well," Danny put his hands in his pockets and walked alongside him, "I'm glad to see we're finally making some progress on turning you into a decent cop."

Steve grinned crookedly.

They rounded the building into a parking lot and Danny realized why this part of town looked familiar. This is where Toast worked. It wasn't a terribly upkept part, but it wasn't the slums, either. It was on the edge of Honolulu. In fact, he could see jungle rising up in the northeast and knew Toast's house was somewhere in the trees not far from here.

A small crowd of people, looking like a mix of tourists, residents, and employees of the Buy More, were standing around the left hand side of the parking lot looking up at the side of the flanking building.

"You dragged me out of the office and volunteered us to check out a giant piece of graffiti?" Danny questioned, pointing up at it.

"It's not just graffiti, Danno," Steve said and crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

Danny stared up at the piece. This had to belong to some kind of famous artist that he was missing. He knew it wasn't a Banksy, because that was the only graffiti he could recognize. This one was a bright, stylized dragon holding a human child and a Hawaiian human woman holding a dragon child.

The part that got him was how high up off the ground it was.

"Care to enlighten me?" he asked.

"Hey, my dudes."

They glanced back at Toast as he approached.

"You guys admiring the Gild?" Toast asked. He leaned in a little closer and dropped his voice. "I left work late last night and saw them throwing it up there."

"And you left them to continue their act of vandalism?" Danny asked.

Toast gave him a dull stare and Steve scowled at him.

"Gild is a secretive artist. He, or she, throws up their art all over the world," Steve said. "Saw one in Pakistan, but it's been destroyed since then."

"So, is this Gild like Banksy, then?" he asked.

"Yeah, kinda." Toast's head bobbed in a nod. "They do pieces relating to the history of whatever city they're in, usually basing them off the history of dragons and humans and how they interacted in that area. Gild's thrown up some brutal ones in London, 'cause of the whole Dark Ages thing."

Danny looked back up at the piece on the wall. "This one doesn't look brutal. Looks happy."

"Native Hawaiians have laidback views on dragons. Mixed families were the norm, and still are in most cases," Steve said. "It wasn't until the Europeans settled here that things got rocky."

"What do you wanna bet the next one isn't going to be so upbeat?" Toast asked.

"Next one? How do you know there's going to be a next one?" Danny questioned.

"Gild does things in three," Toast said simply. "The first one is usually the biggest, because no one's watching for them yet. The next two will be smaller somewhere else in the city."

Danny gave the crowd a second glance. More tourists were appearing, taking pictures of the piece and no doubt posting it to their social media pages. He understood why the Governor wanted this piece checked out. Probably wanted it protected, too.

"It sure does draw in the tourists," he said.

"And tourism supports most of the island's economy," Steve added.

"So, we're what? Watching this to make sure someone doesn't try to scrub it off or tag over it?"

"Actually…."

Danny whipped around and narrowed his eyes at his partner. "The Governor didn't ask us to come down here, did he?"

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, looking a tad sheepish. "I just really wanted to see it."

"You're a Neanderthal. Since when do you appreciate art other than a perfect grouping on a target down at the gun range?"

"I'm not as much of a caveman as you seem to think, buddy. In fact–"

Danny rolled his eyes as Steve was saved from having to finish his sentence by his cell phone ringing. He looked up at the graffiti one more time. It was good. A little bit mind blowing that it had been completed in one night by one person, but good nonetheless, and he had seen a lot of graffiti coming from the Newark and New York area.

"That was Chin. We actually do have something we have to deal with," Steve said. "See you, Toast."

"Later dudes."

* * *

The issue they had to deal with after seeing the graffiti was more of a paperwork issue than a case issue. Steve had been asked to go see the Governor to answer yet a few more questions concerning their joint operation with the FBI, the takedown of Tells and Medrano, the recovery of a long lost painting, and the whole debacle surrounding all of it. That had left the other four members of the team to sort through reports, backlogged cases, and let Danny continue his research.

By the time evening rolled around, he was tired of staring at a computer and went home. He didn't feel any closer to a breakthrough than he had at the start of the day and Steve didn't make good on his promise seeing as he spent most of the day at the Governor's office.

The next morning, however, was more interesting.

Kono placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head back. Chin snapped a picture on his phone. Catherine's lips perked into a smirk. Danny shook his head. And Steve looked torn between smiling and scowling.

A second piece had indeed been bestowed upon the city. In fact, Gild had bestowed it upon the Palace. On the second story. Over Steve's window.

"That's some legit graffiti," Kono said.

This one, unlike the brightly colored one by the Buy More, was more reminiscent of a Banksy with black silhouettes and red highlights. A nineteenth century wooden ship sailed half on the wall and half on the window. A harpoon extended down to the first story, showing an Amphibian dragon that had been speared and was struggling against the line reeling it in, red spray paint mimicking blood in the water.

"Well, Toast was right," Danny said and waved a hand at the piece. "It's definitely not as upbeat as yesterday."

"There were a lot of Amphibian dragons on the islands when the Europeans arrived," Cath said. "They hunted them like whales."

A shudder went down Danny's spine. He couldn't imagine a shaft of iron piercing his flesh and muscle and pulling him up onto a boat where people were waiting to kill, skin, and discard him like he was no more than a fish.

"We're going to have a lot of foot traffic through here today," Kono said, glancing around at the people already gathering to take pictures of the piece.

Steve sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Come on. We have work to do."

"Your favorite artist left a painting on your doorstep and you don't want to stand and gawk?" Danny asked.

Steve snorted.

"Steve," Chin said. He waggled his phone and put it back in his pocket. "I just got a call from Duke. He said HPD's picked up chatter that there's been a few threats against Gild's life since they've arrived in Hawaii."

"Any of them credible?" Steve asked. "Gild's pieces usually stir people up."

Chin nodded. "He's sending over what they've got."

"Looks like we've got a new case." Steve turned on his heel and headed for the front entrance.

"At least it's better than filling out mountains of paperwork and reports," Kono muttered, trailing behind their boss.

Danny gave the piece a parting look and shuddered again. He wondered what Gild's third piece would be tonight.

* * *

"Your sure about this?" Danny questioned.

"Sure as I can be," Chin said.

It was early evening. They had done a lot of digging into the threats, delving into the depths of social media pages, emails, websites, and even the local street artist community. Finally, they'd concluded they would have to protect Gild on the fly, even though they weren't entirely sure if the threats were viable or not. Better safe than sorry. Plus, the Governor didn't want an incident with an international artist like Gild showing up dead on the island.

"Based on how Gild has thrown up their most recent art in cities like London, Madrid, Rio de Janeiro, Mexico City, Houston, New York, and Los Angeles, they move in a similar pattern. This is where the one yesterday was," Chin pointed to a spot on the map on the smart table, "and then this morning was here. The third one should pop up in one of these locations."

He circled three buildings that fit the pattern he had discerned from previous escapades of the artist.

"Then we cover all three locations," Steve said. Commander mode had been switched on at some point during the day, and it showed in his rigid stance and firm voice. "Danny and I will take this one. Chin and Kono, take that one. Cath, get HPD back up and take the last building."

"Yes, Sir," Cath said with a twinkle in her eye.

Steve's lips twitched in the beginnings of a smirk before he smothered it. "Alright. Gear up. And be careful. We don't know what to expect."

* * *

Of course. Of course, Steve had to pick the freaking tallest building of the three. _Of course._

Danny peered over the edge of the building they were camped out on. It was adjacent to the suspected target, not quite as tall, but it was tall enough that he got light headed staring over the edge at the ground.

"Chill out, Danno," Steve said. He calmly checked his weapon and did a cursory sweep over the area.

"If you tell me to chill out one more time in my life, I'm going to shove you into a freezer and then we'll see who's chill," Danny snapped.

"Why're you freaking out over heights now? You've never been scared of heights," Steve asked with a genuine note of curiosity.

"It's the height, plus the dark, plus the various unknowns in this situation that are making me antsy," he answered.

"Just look at it this way: if you fall off the edge, you can fly."

He glared at him. "You're telling me to fly in the dark. I can't even fly in daylight. And, I'm not shifting in the middle of the city. You think people get riled up over some paint on bricks, wait until they see a Cliff descending from the sky like a duck on fire."

"You shifted when the Wyvern dropped Kono off the hotel," Steve retorted.

"That was different."

"How?"

"First, it was a life or death situation and I really didn't want our rookie to become a smudge on the sidewalk. Second, it was only my wings I shifted out. Third, it hurt like hell to glide down with only my wings shifted out," he listed off, ticking off a finger with each reason. "And fourth, everyone was pretty much evacuated out of the area on account of the fire breathing monstrosity raining terror down on Ala Moana."

"Okay." Steve held up his hands in a signal that said he was letting it go.

"Thank you," he huffed. He gazed out over the lights that lit up Honolulu. Red tail lights from cars ran parallel to white headlights on the streets below. Lamps casted halos. Buildings put off their own light to illuminate their sides. He glanced down again. "You ever tag anything?"

"No. Not exactly something you did when your father was a cop," Steve said. "You?"

A hand danced out of its own accord. "I, uh, may have tagged my pop's firehouse. It was my cousin's fault. He was a bad influence. But, I was dumb enough to do it."

"I bet your old man set you straight."

"Made me scrub it off. I'm just glad he gave me an actual scrubber instead of a toothbrush or something."

"You were a bit of rebel, huh, Danno?" Steve chuckled.

"My middle and high school years weren't exactly prime examples of how to be a good kid," he said. He crouched down and leaned against the wall with his chin resting on folded arms.

"Yeah?"

He side eyed his partner. "Don't tell me you were perfect all through your school years."

"I didn't do anything illegal," Steve said. "Stupid, sure. You?"

"Did that one tagging," he said slowly, debating whether or not he should divulge the rest of his exploits. Shrugging, deciding that if he were to tell anyone outside of his blood relatives what he'd done, it might as well be Steve. "Stole my dad's car once to go meet my girlfriend."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen."

Steve laughed. "And you didn't get busted?"

"Oh no, I got busted by my sister when I came home. You see, I did it at night, and my parents were none the wiser. It was perfect. I would have gotten away with it. But then Bridget heard me quietly sneak through the back door and ratted me out."

"I thought you told me you walked everywhere?"

"Not at night in New Jersey. And I definitely wasn't going to skateboard in the dark."

"Wait. You skateboard?"

"Past tense, not present. I skateboarded. Not anymore, 'cause I'm not a young dope without a fear of broken bones and a cracked skull," he said. "I bet you rode a bike everywhere."

He could Steve frown out of the corner of his eye and grinned to himself.

"We all rode bikes."

"Wait, wait, hold on." Danny pressed two fingers to his temple. "Dark blue mountain bike, bit of red mud on the frame, maybe some rusting on the chain from the salty sea air?"

Steve's eyes widened. "What – how did you know that?"

Danny continued grinning, but didn't reveal his secret. Truth be told, he'd seen the bike in Steve's basement hanging on the wall where he bet it had been hanging for a decade or more. Mud, rust, and all.

His grin fell as he lifted his eyes up to the much taller building they were surveilling. "Well, buddy, I think you picked the lucky number."

Steve tilted his head back.

Descending from the top of the high rise, they could make out the form of an Arboreal dragon in the snippets of light. Danny grabbed the binoculars. The Arboreal was smaller than Steve, covered in dark purple scales with stripes of sea green down their neck, shoulders, legs, chest, and tail. A small black duffle bag was strapped around their neck.

"And that explains how this Gild character can get their graffiti up so high in the middle of the night," he said.

Gild was in the just the right place to be barely noticed on the edge of the shadows. Someone would really have to be looking hard in order to see them from street level. Danny was impressed by the sheer strength the dragon displayed by holding onto a tiny window ledge with one forefoot and spray painting with the other. They looked like a gecko stuck to the wall.

"Two o'clock, on the roof," Steve barked.

Danny jerked his head toward his right, squinting to see the figure clad in black on the rooftop of the hotel. The hotel was shorter than the high rise Gild was on, but one floor taller than the one they were on. He could barely see what his partner had spotted.

Then, the figure on the hotel roof propped a rifle on the ledge.

Steve whistled sharply.

The figure startled as did Gild. The dragon's head craned around and locked onto them. Steve waved an arm at the hotel. Gild pressed against the building as a shot cracked through the air.

Danny took aim with his handgun. "This is a bad part of town to have a gun fight, Steve."

Steve growled and fired the first shot at the figure on the hotel. They caught the glint of the rifle being pulled below the ledge and the figure disappearing.

Danny grabbed his phone. "Chin, we've got a shooter on the White Sands Hotel. We need backup immediately to apprehend."

" _Already heard the shots. HPD is on the way."_

The rifle fired up at Gild again.

Seeming to decide it wasn't worth getting shot over, Gild backflipped off the building. They dropped like a rock below their eyeline. Danny cursed and ducked as the Arboreal came gliding up and over their heads, landing lightly on their roof.

"You good?" Steve questioned.

"At least it wasn't a grenade," Gild said. And Gild was a girl with a vague Latin American accent.

Police cruisers pulled in front of the hotel and Danny could see red and blue lights circling around the other side, blocking the exits. He turned from the scene, taking in the graffiti artist before them.

Gild was a little taller than him with a long pair of horns and a short pair below those. Her face was long and slender like her body and tail. A ragged, spiny fin crested the back of her neck and translucent gliding wings folded against her sides tightly. In addition to the black bag around her neck, she wore a black face mask that covered her snout, probably to protect against the spray paint fumes would be his guess.

"Thanks, boys, but I'll be going now," she said.

"No, hold on!" Steve said.

By the time he and his partner reached the other side of the roof, all they caught was a glimpse of wings and a tail bounding over another rooftop and diving over its far edge.

Danny grabbed his phone as it rang. "You get him?"

" _Yeah. He's in cuffs. You find Gild?"_

"She already split," he said.

" _She?"_

"We'll tell you all about it over a beer," Danny said, glancing sideways at his partner who was staring after Gild with a frown. "Steve's buying."

That seemed to snap him out of his funk. "I'm what? Buying?"

"Yep." Danny slid the phone back in his pocket and started to grab their gear. "We're going to let the schmuck stew in lockup over night and we're going to get beers. First round's on you. And then you can explain to me why out of all the art in the world, you like graffiti."

"Where did you get this idea that I like Gild or her graffiti?" he questioned.

"Oh, I don't know. You had no clue what a Beneventi painting was and probably wouldn't know a Monet from a Manet, but you sure knew about Gild and made up an excuse to go see the piece downtown by the Buy More," Danny said as they traipsed down the stairs.

Steve grunted.

* * *

The morning after, they were pleasantly surprised to find that Gild hadn't been scared off and had left her third piece for the city. On the ME's office of all places. To say the least, Max was thrilled.

Danny couldn't help but grin as he stared up at it. "Guess us saving Gild's tail last night made an impression, huh?"

Steve nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "Guess it did."

It was a simple black silhouette of a dragon forefoot shaking a human hand in a companionable gesture with a gleaming golden badge behind it.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", drugs wind up in some speculating and laughter.**

 **Artwork of Gild is up on the page.**

 **Okay. Now for the thing. I've seen this done for graphic novels and comics, and coming from an art background, I thought it'd be neat. Phoebe agreed.**

 **Basically, if you want to, you can comment with a short character blurb. It can be as simple as a dragon type/color palette or a name/personality tidbit or any combination you want. Long, short, whatever. I'm planning on taking any blurbs I get, giving them a number, and sending the numbers through a randomizer. Whoever comes out on top will get their character worked into an upcoming chapter.**

 **It's voluntary, of course, so don't feel pressured to participate if you don't want. I'll do the randomizer next Tuesday, so you've got until then to comment or PM me with your character idea. Maybe I'm crazy, but I figured I'd give it a shot. ;)**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	109. Fact 95

**Guys, guys, guys. One of my bunnies had kits!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller!**

* * *

 **Fact #95: If you give a dragon drugs, you better be prepared to deal with the outcome.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

Chin felt the sweat trickle down his face and neck as he continued to backpedal clear of the smoking garage. He had his arms locked around Danny's chest, physically dragging him across the gravel into the grass near the side of the road. The man's short height belied his overall weight. It didn't help that he was completely useless in the dragging process, instead falling pretty much limp in Chin's arms and mumbling.

Deeming them far enough away from the fire and smoke, he laid Danny on his back in the grass.

He stood up, cracking his vertebrae back into place. He cast a glance down at Danny. "You okay, brah?"

"Peachy."

Chin rolled his eyes at the giggling that followed.

Kono and Catherine came next, dragging Steve between them. Steve appeared like he was trying to assist, but his floundering feet caused more stumbling than not.

Kono huffed as they pretty much dropped him on his backside next to Danny. "Did you call backup?"

Chin nodded. "On its way."

Steve flopped an arm out, groping around in the grass before snagging his partner's forearm. "Yo, Danno. That was wild."

Danny snorted, giggled, and then snorted again. "I told you to wait for back up, babe."

"What?" Steve drew out in a higher pitch than normal.

Cath shook her head in exasperation. "I can't believe it. What in the world did they have in there, anyway?"

"The good stuff," Danny cracked, tilting his head back to smile great big up at them. "Chin, have I ever told you that you look like a marble statue? Even from this angle? Carved by the hands of the gods."

"I should be recording this," Kono said and slipped out her phone. She held it up to her cousin. "So, cuz, how does it feel to be likened to a Greek statue of marble?"

Chin maintained a neutral face, fighting the smirk. At least they didn't have two raging dragons on their hands. That's what he had initially been afraid of when the smoke started rolling from the garage in thick, gray plumes. Still, he wasn't sure if the effects of whatever drugs the two had been exposed to were harmless or not.

"Is this gonna hurt later? Like, the hangover from Hell?" Steve asked and cupped his hands over his face.

"Like the time we had too much Devil's Tongue and you tried to stop a gas station robbery?" Danny asked, already snickering. In fact, Chin was sure he hadn't ever stopped chuckling.

"Uh huh."

"Oh yeah, probably," Danny said. "And you're gonna have the munchies."

Kono grinned slyly and nudged Danny with her foot. "You speaking from experience, brah?"

"What are you implying, Miss Kalakaua?" Danny questioned. His eyes sluggishly tracked up to her. One hand flipped out in drunken movements. "Are you implying I've done drugs before?"

"Don't do drugs, Danno, don't do drugs!" Steve slapped his hand against Danny's chest.

"Ow! You Neanderthal," Danny griped, hand shooting out to slap him in the chest.

Slap. Slap. Slap, slap, slap. Slap. Slap, slap. Slap. Whack!

"Alright, alright, cool it." Chin stepped between them.

"You're an ingrate," Danny grumbled, rubbing the left side of his chest. "A caveman. An animal. An oaf. A buffoon."

"Heh. Buffoon," Steve chuckled. "That's a new one."

"You're an ogre," Danny said with a certain finality.

"I am…an ogre!" Steve replied in a horrible imitation of Mike Meyers.

Chin looked at Kono and Cath as the two leaders of Five-0 busted up laughing so hard they were actually rolling on the ground.

The fire department and HPD had arrived by that point, working on putting out the fire and securing the scene. One assailant was already in lockup and Chin had grabbed their second suspect when he'd darted from the garage after the lighting the place up. Cuffed and in a bit of a stupor, either from the drugs or the aftermath of Chin's tackle, he was sitting in the back of the Traverse. Chin could see his forehead pressed against the window from here, like he was asleep.

Chin eyed the ambulance as EMS pulled up.

"These two should probably get checked out," he said.

Kono set her hands on her hips and shook her head at the two of them who were still chuckling. "Afraid they might die laughing?"

Chin waved the two paramedics over. "More afraid of the drugs suddenly having a reverse effect and us being forced to take down a dragon."

"Good point," Cath said.

The two paramedics, who were ones they didn't recognize, crouched down next to the boys.

"What happened?" one of them asked.

"We were clearing the garage and our suspect lit it up. He and his partner are suspected of growing and dealing marijuana along with other drugs, but we're not sure all of what was in the garage. Steve and Danny were inside and had to be dragged out," Chin explained.

"Hey, do you guys go on a lot of weird calls?" Danny asked as the female paramedic took his blood pressure.

"You've got no idea, brah," she said mildly.

"Weirdest call. Ten seconds. Go," Steve said, ignoring the male paramedic taking his vitals.

"Drunken man, completed naked, covered in paint, cactus garden," she rattled off. She glanced up. "I lived in Arizona for a few years."

Danny winced dramatically. "And did he have cactus spines stuck in his…you know…."

"Cactus spines were everywhere," she said. "Good thing he was drunk enough to not really notice what was going on."

After a few more pressing questions on Danny and Steve's part about more weird calls, and a few more rounds of laughter, the paramedics consulted each other quietly and stood up.

"Their vitals aren't all that out of whack. We could take them in the rig to get bloodwork done to try to find out what the substance affecting their mental status is, but it might metabolize by then," the woman said.

"We can watch them, if you think that's okay," Cath said.

The man nodded. "So long as they have constant surveillance for the next twenty-four hours, they should be fine. I'd watch out for signs of impaired breathing, vomiting, rashes, a spike or drop in temperature, irregular pulse, but I think they're just a little high."

"We can administer fluids while we're here," she offered. "Might ease of some of the symptoms."

"I don't like being stabbed with needles all the time," Danny complained, flopping back in the grass.

"You're a wuss, Danno." Steve struggled to his feet. Cath caught him around the chest and one of the paramedics grabbed his arm.

Danny vaulted upright in indignation, drunkenly following the others with his hands waving madly through the air, each swipe and jab punctuating a long winded rant that didn't make much sense to Chin. He made sure his friend was sitting securely on the bumper of the ambulance and then pulled the male paramedic aside.

"The suspect we arrested is in the back of my car. I think he might be slightly drugged, too," he said.

He led the paramedic to the Traverse and popped the back door. He stood guard while their suspect was checked over. A small smirk played on his lips. It was nice to see the two leaders smiling, even if it was because of drugs. It was also amusing to watch Danny attempt to flirt with the female paramedic, who took every terrible one-liner in stride.

"Lieutenant," the paramedic with him said. Chin looked down at him. "I think the other drug involved was some kind of Devil's Tongue."

"What makes you say that?"

The paramedic plucked a bit of leaf off the man's shirt. "Smells like Devil's Tongue, anyway. And it might explain why those two are acting inebriated."

"Devil's Tongue wears off eventually," he said with a hint of relief. "I've never heard of it being smoke, though. You usually powder it and eat or drink it. But, if improperly processed, it's a hallucinogenic and causes aggression and vomiting."

"Some varieties can be smoked like marijuana, but they're rare. They don't grow on the island," the paramedic said.

"Why does a paramedic know so much about Devil's Tongue?" Chin asked in good humor.

"Because I made the mistake of taking a class taught by Miss Kalawai'a."

Chin laughed.

* * *

"What if I had ears?"

"You already have ears."

Despite having nearly a full bag of saline each, the pair had been insufferable on the way back to Steve's house. Cath had volunteered to babysit them while Chin and Kono booked their suspect and wrapped up their small case, and now she was questioning her decision.

They were both sitting on opposite ends of the couch, staring at the ceiling fan.

"No, no, not these ears," Danny said and patted the ears on the side of his head. "As a dragon. Dragons only have holes in their heads like lizards or something. What if we had ears instead?"

"What kind of ears?" Steve asked.

"I dunno. Dragon ears."

"Why do you want ears?"

"I didn't say I wanted them, I said what if we had them?"

"What if dragons had fur?" Steve squinted at the fan blades, probably trying to envision what a furry dragon would look like.

"What if dragons could breathe ice instead of fire?" Danny asked.

"What if dragons could fart fire?" Steve countered.

Danny rolled his head along the back of the couch to look at his partner. "Real classy, Steven."

"What?" Steve hunched his shoulders and held his hands up. "Are you telling me you don't fart? The next thing is you'll be telling me your poop don't stink, which I know is a lie–"

"Okay," Cath interrupted and stood up from the recliner. "Keep it out of the bathroom, boys. I had enough of that on the way over here."

Danny flung a hand out to slap Steve and missed completely. "Look. You made your girlfriend mad."

"She's not mad. You're not mad, right Cath?" Steve asked.

"No, I'm not mad," she said. She sighed at the puppy dog look in her boyfriend's eyes. "I promise. You guys want something to eat?"

"Pizza," they both responded.

They eyed each other.

"No pineapple."

"Lots of pineapple."

As soon as she had left the living room into the kitchen, Danny turned toward Steve again with a mischievous grin.

"Do the thing," he said.

Steve stuck his tongue out at him. Normally pink and fat, it narrowed and shifted to an indigo color and dropped down far beyond his chin almost to his navel.

Danny snorted in laughter.

"Now you," Steve said after he'd reeled his freakishly long tongue back in and shifted it back to a human tongue.

Danny poked a forked tongue out of his teeth, the scorched blue standing out starkly. He wiggled the two separate ends.

Cath walked back in to find the two boys sticking their tongues out at each other and lost in peels of laughter. She rolled her eyes and laughed, too.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", various characters enjoy some cartoons in a slice of life chapter.**

 **Yeah. I was super excited this morning when I found three kits in my does' pen. It wasn't unplanned, but I thought she had had a false positive when she passed her due date. Guess not! Now the kits are all fluffy and their eyes are open. It was like poof! Instant rabbit.**

 **Anyway...thank you guys for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	110. Fact 96

**Here is a nice slice of life chapter. Enjoy. :)**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #96: Cartoons are good for the soul.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

 _McGarrett household…._

"Steve, what are you watching?" Catherine asked as she descended down the stairs.

Steve was unusually still for this time of the morning. Cath would've expected him to be out swimming or running at six o'clock, not sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and an icepack on his head.

"Cartoons," he replied simply.

Cath perched on the recliner, eyeing her boyfriend. "Your head still hurting?"

"It like after Chin, Danny, and I went to that bar and got a little too wasted on the Devil's Tongue," he mumbled. He tipped his coffee mug back and then frowned at the emptiness of it.

She sighed, grabbed his mug, and went into the kitchen. "You want eggs or anything?"

"Nah. I'll get up and make something to eat here," he said.

He grinned graciously up at her as she brought his mug back topped off with hot coffee and just the right amount of cream. She sat next to him, dismissing her plans of going for a run and deciding instead to indulge in Saturday morning cartoons.

"Is this _Dragon Force_?" she asked, pointing at the very '80s cartoon on the TV.

Steve nodded minutely and side eyed her. "What? You didn't watch this when you were a kid?"

"I didn't watch a lot of cartoons period," she said. She shook her head at the heroic and dramatic antics of the overly muscled lead characters. "You know, this was just a rip off of _Thundercats_ , but with dragons."

"No, no. _Thundercats_ was completely different," he objected. "You just said you didn't watch cartoons. How would you know it's a rip off?"

"I said I didn't watch _a lot_ of cartoons," she corrected. "I didn't live under a rock."

"Fine. What did you watch?" he asked.

"Scooby Doo," she said. She caught his almost imperceptible smirk. "What? I liked it. One of our dogs was named Scooby."

"Nothing wrong with that," he said and cocked a grin her way.

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "At least it made more sense than this show."

"That's because you came in right in the middle of a season finale." He slouched further into the couch, shifting the icepack to the back of his neck with a grimace.

Cath let it go and snuggled into the other side of the couch. She propped her feet up on Steve's lap. A lazy Saturday morning. She supposed that was fine. The dark clouds outside looked like they were going to dump rain on them today, anyway.

"You know what we should watch," she said after a moment.

"Hmm?"

" _Dragonheart_."

"Woah. And you're complaining about this show? That movie's all kinds of inaccurate," Steve said.

"But I like Dennis Quaid."

"And I like colorful dragons with dumb names beating up space invaders," he said with a wave of the hand at the TV.

Cath groaned. Even after the drugs had worn off, she was still dealing with a five year old.

* * *

 _Williams household…._

"Come sit at the table, Monkey, the pancakes are done," Danny called.

"Can I eat them in the living room?"

Danny slid another pancake off onto the stack on the plate. Grace had her plate and fork in hand, staring up at him pleadingly.

"Please?"

Unable to resist those eyes, he caved. "Fine. Just be careful, huh? I don't want to have to scrub syrup off the couch. I have enough of a headache this morning as is."

"Got it."

He shoveled his plate high with pancakes after loading two onto Grace's plate. Grabbing a few painkillers for his head before he left the kitchen and dry swallowing them, he followed her into the living room where she had already made herself comfortable on one end of the couch with the cushions and a blanket. And the TV remote.

"What's on at eight Saturday mornings?" he asked, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

"Cartoons," she said, expertly flipping through the channels from his sports ones to her preferred selection.

He immediately recognized what cartoon it was. Surprisingly, he didn't know the episode off the top of his head. "Which _Dragon Ranger Academy_ is this one?"

"It's season seven. They're doing the finale tonight," she explained. She shoved a triangle of pancake into her mouth while her eyes remained glued to the screen.

"I think I missed an entire season," he muttered.

As the pair of them continued to watch the episode progress and his plate became emptier, he concluded he had missed an entire season. There was a Serpent character he didn't recognize, one with iridescent scales that must have nearly killed the animators to animate, various characters were missing, and the setting was unfamiliar. Not that he was actively following the show. No. He was an adult who had more important things to worry about and who liked to watch baseball and football and basketball and…a few cartoons.

He sighed inwardly. There was no denying it. He might try to excuse his knowledge of the show by claiming it was one of Grace's favorites and that was the only reason he remotely knew what was going on, but he enjoyed watching it, too.

Which was why he planned on binge watching it with his daughter today before the finale despite the headache. "What in the world is going on, anyway? How far into the season is it?"

"Fourth episode, I think. Balthazar and Calloway kidnapped Toby and Mai in the first episode, so Cedar had to take over as leader and he and Aspen are butting heads all the time. Hawthorne went off on his own to search for them in the last episode, and Beck is trying to tell them that they need to go to the London branch of the Academy for backup," she explained in rapid fire fashion. He smirked. She was definitely his daughter when it came to talking.

"See. Beck's the smart one. She knows that you need backup," he said.

Grace held up a finger. "But, what they don't know, is that Balthazar and Calloway planted bombs at the London branch and are waiting for the rest of the team to get there so they can blow them up."

"Hey, woah. That's kinda dark for a kid's show, isn't it?" He raised a brow at her.

"All the Disney villains die horrible deaths," she countered without missing a beat.

He was impressed at the quick comeback. "Touché."

* * *

 _Kalakaua household…._

Kono ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing it up after her shower. She had wanted to go surfing originally, but the weather did not look permitting. Sure, she could survive stormy weather out on the water, being an Amphibian and all, but she could smell bacon and hear the TV on.

"And he cooks, too," she said.

Adam smiled up at her. "Good morning to you, too."

She filled her plate full of bacon and eggs, grabbed a handful of fresh berries, and a mug of coffee. She settled down on the couch next to him, smiling until she saw what was queued up on Netflix. She punched him in the shoulder.

"You said you were going to wait for me!"

Adam rubbed his shoulder. "I haven't watched any. I've been watching other stuff this morning, waiting for you to get out of the shower."

She squinted at him in suspicion. Eventually, she snatched the remote and pressed play. "If you start dropping mysterious theories about what's going to happen and they all turn out to be right, I'm going to do a lot more than punch you."

"Come on, Kono. I haven't watched _River of Pearls_ , either. They just put it on Netflix," he said. "Now, _Year of the Dragon_ , I have watched those, and–"

Kono flung a blueberry at his face. "Shut up! I'm still on season one of that one, too."

Adam grinned and settled back to watch the new anime series they had picked out together. He wouldn't dare tell her he had been watching it on his account on Netflix.

* * *

 _Noble household…._

"Tam, dear, this has been on all day," Chetna said, setting a cup of tea down next to her daughter.

"I know. I'm sorry, Mum, but he likes it," Tamarin apologized.

The him, of course, was her baby Danny. Not quite a year old, but approaching it quickly, he had been fussy early that morning and only calmed when she had put on the cartoons. Now, he had contented himself between playing with blocks on the floor, crawling after the cat, and trying to pull himself up using the couch as leverage.

" _He_ likes it, hmm?" her mother smiled knowingly.

Tamarin's lips quirked up barely. "And perhaps I could use a brain numbing day."

"The pills?" Chetna asked as she folded down onto the floor next to the baby.

She nodded. "I don't like this, Mum. I'm either a nervous wreck or too drugged to do anything."

Chetna sighed deeply. Little Danny offered her a block, which she stacked on top of another. "I think, perhaps, we should travel to Los Angeles."

Tamarin was already shaking her head before she finished her sentence. "No, I can't do it."

"Your father and I will be with you, Tam. There're mental health physicians there that know how to treat dragons," Chetna said.

"I don't know if I can travel, Mum. Last time I went somewhere…."

"I know, love. Oh god, do I know. Those were the worst five years of our lives," Chetna said. She stacked another block on top of the first two. "But, we will be with you this time. And those horrible people that did that to you are all in prison. One of them is dead. May he burn."

"Mum!"

"I can't help it. Not after what they did to my daughter."

Tamarin dragged a hand over her face, zoning back in on the cartoons on the screen. She wasn't even sure what she was watching. Something bright and colorful with dinosaurs and dragons and singing. She had just selected something off of Hulu without much thought.

"You don't have to live in one extreme or the other," her mother said softly. "There is balance. And I can't stand watching you suffer."

Then there was little Danny to consider. On the bad days, she couldn't function enough to take care of him. Her mother had to step in to help. She was either having a nervous breakdown or was simply too tired to deal properly. She hated it. She wanted to hate what had been done to her on the ship for all those years, but couldn't bring herself to think that deeply on it. Her soul was too weary to muster up that rage, the kind her mother displayed when it was a bad day. Lord help whoever if her mother ever came across someone off the ships. The hands that soothed and comforted her, cooked expertly seasoned meals, and played with Danny would clasp around someone's throat and squeeze the life out of them if given the chance.

Tam swallowed. She just wanted to cry. To curl into a ball and give up on the bad days.

But she could never give up on her little Danny. No. She would never curse the kids she had, only pray for their wellbeing and try to be there for the one with her.

"When did you want to go to LA?" she asked quietly.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", a storm rolls onto the island with more fury than originally anticipated. Issues ensue.**

 **So...totally not related to the next chapters or anything *hint hint wink wink*...but what scares you? Spiders? Abandoned houses? A face staring at you through the window? What would be the monster of your nightmares?**

 **Thank you for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	111. Fact 97

**It was supposed to be scary, and then turned into a fairy tale, and then it turned into a creepy fairy tale?**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #97: Dragons tend to spawn legends, myths, and fairy tales.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

Danny rounded on Steve as soon as he set foot through the front door. "Shoes off. Coat off. If you track mud all through my house, so help me, Steven, you'll be spending the night in your truck."

Steve glanced down at his wet but clearly not muddy shoes before toeing them off. He ran a hand through his soaked hair, spiking it up at odd angles. "May I enter now, your Majesty?"

"Oh, shut up," Danny grumbled.

"Uncle Steve!" Grace bounded around the corner from the direction of the kitchen, holding a bag of marshmallows and a box of graham crackers. "Did you get the chocolate?"

Steve fanned out the Hershey bars like poker cards. "Of course I did. Can't have s'mores without chocolate."

"Did you have to wrestle them away from someone at the gas station?" Danny asked as his daughter dashed back into the kitchen with the chocolate bars now in hand.

Steve shrugged his coat off and hung it on the rack behind the door. "It's getting bad out there. A lot of places are boarding up. Most of the people at the gas station were clearing out their water and beer supply."

"I bet. Good thing I've got a six pack in the fridge," Danny said. He glanced through the storm door at the roiling gray clouds and the chaotic winds knocking leaves and branches from the trees, scattering them in yards and down the street. "First a tsunami, now a hurricane. What next? A volcanic eruption?"

"It was a fake tsunami," Steve chided.

"Still gave me gray hairs."

"Look on the bright side. This thing's only supposed to side swipe us."

Danny shut the door as the wind changed direction and blew stinging droplets of rain against the storm door. "It's already dumped a metric crap ton of rain and broken some trees, and it hasn't even really started. Or so the weather guy says. You hear from the others, yet?"

"Cath is bunked down at her elderly neighbor's house. Said the old lady lives alone and was worried about being by herself. She asked if Cath would stay with her," Steve said. He made his way around into the living room and plopped on the couch. "Last I heard, Kono was going to stay with Chin at his place."

As soon as he had spoken, there was a rapid knock at the door, a flurry of cursing, and then the front door swung open and closed just as quickly. A thoroughly soaked Chin and Kono stood there.

"Well, speak of the devils," Danny said. "What happened to staying at Chin's place, huh?"

"Downed powerlines. Couldn't get through," Chin said.

Kono shook like a dog, sending water droplets everywhere.

Danny shielded his face with his hands. "Woah, woah, hey! I'll go get you a towel, you animal. You're just as bad as Steve."

Kono grinned when he returned and gladly accepted the fluffy, floral print towel. "Nice choice of colors, brah."

"It's one of Grace's towels," he said.

Grace peeked around the corner. "I didn't know you guys were staying over, too."

Danny raised a brow at them in question. Were they staying over or just hanging out until the road was cleared? Chin shrugged.

"The road was blocked so we figured we hang out at the party house," Kono said with a smile. She kicked off her flipflops and headed toward the kitchen. "What're you cooking? It smells awesome."

"I'm making s'mores! Here, you can help me." Grace grabbed Kono's hand and towed her the rest of the way to the kitchen.

Danny sat on the end of the couch the farthest away from the glass windows and gestured for Chin to take a seat. "How's it looking out there?"

"Water's starting to run down some of the sloped streets. Standing in some places. You know that playground south of here?"

"Yeah."

"It's turned into a lake."

Steve whistled. "I hope the sandbags hold at my place."

"You mean that fort you built? Yeah, it'll take a lot more than this to put your place underwater. It'll take a tsunami. A real one," Danny said.

"Danno! The s'mores are almost done!"

Chin rubbed his hands together. "Looks like we picked the right house to crash at."

* * *

After eating every single s'more Grace had made, the four of them were urged to sit on the living room floor by the young girl. It was only late afternoon, but the clouds had darkened the sky to a point where they needed to turn on lights in the house. Except Grace wanted it dark.

"You have to tell scary stories in the dark. It doesn't work in the light," she reasoned.

"Really, Monkey? You want to tell scary stories?" Danny asked, leaning back against the couch.

Grace nodded firmly. "Who wants to go first?"

"Once upon a time, I moved to Hawaii. The end."

"Danno," Grace scolded and made a face at him.

"What? It's my never ending nightmare."

"You love it here," Steve objected, winking at Grace. "I've got a scary story."

Danny held a hand up. "Keep it PG, Crypt Keeper."

"Don't worry, bud." Steve straightened up and Grace leaned in intently. In fact, Danny was curious what this story was as well. "Once upon a time…."

* * *

There was a village in the mountains. It had green hills that rolled like a mare's back, freckled with wildflowers and humming with honeybees. Forests loomed on the edges of the hills, dark as the deepest caves and filled with unusual noises and creatures. Jagged peaks rose up on three sides of the village and the fourth side sloped away toward the southern sea.

Now, there was a man who lived in the village who was regarded as a hero. Strong as an ox, as thick as a tree, with hair wild and the color of spun gold, with eyes bluer than the sky, and he had an ax that could fell five timbers at once. He had protected the village from robbers and thieves, from bandits and pirates, from armies and huntsmen, from bears and boars for many years.

One day, a weary traveler stopped in the village, causing a stir.

"Where have you come from?"

"From far away," the stranger said.

"Where are you going?"

"I do not know," the stranger said.

The stranger's answers confused and frightened the villagers, for as deep in the mountains as they were, not many traveled through the village unless they meant it harm.

The village summoned their strong man to speak with the stranger.

The strong man was afraid of nothing. He could hold a bear's jaws open with his hands and carry trees on his shoulders. This stranger was thin like a willow reed, with a face full of tiredness, wrinkled skin the color of steeped tea, and wispy hair the color of ivory. Nothing to fear.

"What business have you in our quaint village?" The strong man had a booming voice that rumbled like thunder in the valley.

"I need only to rest a few days before I am on my way." The stranger's voice creaked like a breeze in the tree limbs, no louder than a sigh.

"Where did your long journey start?"

"In a land so far away, you know not of it."

"I have faced pirates coming by sea from far away lands, robbers who have spent their lives crawling among stone castles, and animals from every corner of the world. I know of far away lands. If you do not want to tell me where you have come from, where are you going?"

"I do not know."

The strong man was perplexed. He feared nothing, but the villagers were not the same. He could hear them murmuring behind his back about the stranger bringing ill will into the village.

"Where do you come from?"

The stranger gripped the staff in their hand and held it east beyond the mountains. "I have come from beyond the horizon. From where the sun sets fire to the morning dew."

This stirred up the villagers even more.

"I have walked among beasts fiercer than the bear whose pelt you wear. Among giants who tear trees up from the ground, roots and all. Among monsters of the sea. Among those who fly at night and sweep the stars down from the skies."

"This stranger is mad."

"A witch, I tell you."

"A friend of demons. Cast them out!"

"Away!"

The strong man laughed and birds flew from the trees at the rumbling sound. "Settle down, my friends. Have you not seen me pull trees up from the ground? Have you not seen me fight monsters from the sea who want to plunder your wealth and take your children? I have stood on the tallest peak and touched the stars, I have fought with wolves and lions and bears and boars with tusks the size of swords. The stranger is merely mad."

The villagers began to speak their acknowledgement of the strong man's deeds.

"This is true."

"He has fought off terrible beasts, and look! He wears their pelts as prizes."

"Turn the stranger away, for we do not want this kind of madness around our children."

The strong man turned to the stranger. "You and your wild speech are not welcome here."

The stranger nodded curtly. "Beware, strong man. Even the mightiest mountains crumble to the wind and rain."

And with that, the stranger was swallowed up by the woods.

The village feasted that night and praised the strong man for chasing the stranger off. He accepted the praise greedily, ate the meat, drank the ale, and danced with the young maidens late into the night under the stars.

The strong man's house was on the outskirts of the village. He had built it there with his bare hands with timbers he had cut himself. Anyone coming or going would have to pass by him. After too much food and ale, he lay sprawled on his mattress of straw and snored.

At the darkest hour before dawn, he awoke to a fuzzy feeling. Senses dimmed by ale and sleep, by mirth and laughter the night before, he could not pinpoint what had awoken him. Perhaps it had been an early rooster crowing.

He heard not the whispering. "Mountains fall silently."

Morning broke and the strong man rose in a groggy state. He would speak with the master of the feast and ascertain where the ale had come from, for it had been far stronger than usual. His head beat like a deer skin drum, his mouth parched like a dry streambed.

The villagers bid him good morning as he passed through the houses, but he said nothing. His knuckles nearly dragged on the ground and the constant chatter of happy people rattled in his ears. He grabbed his ax and left for the forest.

He spent most of his day in the deepest woods. They were not silent. Birds chirped high in the boughs, crickets fiddled in the undergrowth, a freshwater stream burbled over smooth stones, and his ax whacked at the trunks. He satisfied his hunger with wild berries and a rabbit that happened to be unlucky enough to get near. He drank from the cold stream.

The woods grew much darker, more menacing, as evening set in. The strong man feared nothing. Yet, he had never heard the trees whisper like this nor had he heard the birds and insects fall silent.

He hauled a few timbers into the village for firewood and construction that evening. There was no feasting that night. He ate from the salted meat in his house and enjoyed a hearty helping of wine before falling asleep on his straw mattress.

The moon was at the western horizon when he awoke again. It was black. So dark. He feared nothing in the dark.

"No one hears the mountain crumble."

"Show yourself!" He demanded, leaping out of his bed.

The darkness was empty and no one stood outside his window. He shook his head. Perhaps his quiet day in the woods had him craving human voices. He started his day early.

Once the sun was above the jagged ridge of the mountains, he sought the advice of the villagers over what he had heard.

"Probably all that wine and ale you've been drinking," said the butcher.

"It's your loneliness, lad. You need a woman," said the blacksmith.

"The wind makes all sorts of sounds through these hills," said the farmer.

"Birds speak in the tongue of men. I've heard them," said the hunter.

The strong man left it alone. Every single villager had a different opinion, and yet none seemed to understand his unease. The strong man feared nothing. He feared no whispers in the dark and certainly could not let the villagers know if he did.

That day he watched the sky beyond the valley. What danger lay out there? Where had the stranger come from, and where had they been going? Surely there was no land where beasts mightier than he roamed. He wore the pelts of wolves, of bears, lions, boars, wore the gold he had taken from pirates and robbers and bandits. What mightier beasts were there?

No. In this valley, in this village, he was the mightiest. He was the ancient tree the villagers sought shelter under. He was the mountain crag that protected against the storms.

That afternoon, he killed a bear to remind himself he was the strongest thing here.

Feeling more like himself, he brought his prize to the village that night and drank with them. The skinner would make him a fine coat from the bear. The master of the feast cooked the meat and the village praised their hero. If a bear the size of three men could not make a scratch on their strong man, who could?

In his stupor, the strong man lay on his straw mattress after much partying, and stared at the rafters of his house. Slowly, he fell asleep, not hearing the murmuring of the wind and the creaking of the trees.

The darkest hour came a third time. The strong man roused himself from sleep with a quickened heart and a cold sweat. A prickling went down his neck. The wind still murmured outside the window and the trees creaked.

The strong man who knew no fear was struck with a paralyzing terror. The wind was not murmuring outside his house and the trees were not creaking outside his window.

The murmuring and the creaking were inside.

With wide eyes he stared at the rafters. The terrible sensation of being watched crawled along his skin. It was made worse when two round eyes glinted in the dark above his bed.

"Do you fear what you see?"

The voice creaked like a breeze in the tree limbs, no louder than a sigh.

The strong man swallowed. "You."

"I travel far and wide, meeting strong men like you, you who have not felt fear. You who have not known what it is to be hunted."

The stranger was no longer the withered human he had turned away three days ago. Long limbs, spindly like sapling branches and white like birch, unfolded from around the stranger.

"The mountain crumbles in silence. No one hears the mountain fall. And no one sees the mountain again."

When dawn broke over the village, they were perplexed. Then frightened. Then fell into an outright panic.

The strong man was gone. Left in his place were his pelts and his ax. With him, he took their courage, their protection, and their lives, for the village was left vulnerable. To this day, there is nothing left except a few stones and the whispering in the trees.

* * *

Danny stared incredulously at Steve, well, more like squinted at him in the dark. "That wasn't a scary story, that was a fairytale!"

"I thought it was kinda creepy," Grace defended.

"Hey, you said to keep it PG. The version I originally heard made _Chuckie_ seem like _Toy Story_ ," Steve said and scrunched his face at Danny. He leaned over closer to his ear. "It's supposed to end with the stripped corpse of the strong man being cooked on the fire."

"Ew." Grace shuddered, overhearing his whispering.

"It's okay, kid. I've got an actual campfire style scary story," Kono said and winked at her. She whispered to Chin, who nodded. Straightening up and situating herself to get into it, she started, "It was a dark and stormy night like this–"

Steve's phone rang.

"Wow. Great theater etiquette, babe," Danny commented.

Steve glared at him and answered anyway. "McGarrett."

While Steve stood up and walked away to talk, Danny pointed at Kono. "Is this story kosher?"

"Danno, I'm not five anymore. I can handle scary stuff now, remember?" Grace objected.

"I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about me. I don't want to have nightmares tonight, because then I'll have to snuggle up with you," he said.

Grace laughed. "I bet Uncle Steve would cuddle up with you."

"No," the simultaneous answer from both men made everybody laugh.

Steve walked back over. "I'm sorry, Grace. That was Duke. He said they've got some people trapped on the rocks just east of here."

"We're not Search and Rescue," Danny said.

"No. Search and Rescue is farther north. There was a mudslide and HPD is stretched too thin to respond. And we're closer."

"Can I come?" Grace asked.

"Monkey, it's dangerous out there. Just look at it." Danny waved a hand at the rain beating on the windows and the tree in the yard bowing to the wind.

"Yeah, but you don't like me being alone in the house, either," she said.

Danny combed his fingers through his hair. He definitely didn't want to leave his daughter alone in the house on a night like this. If it started to flood or a tree fell through the roof while she was by herself, he'd never forgive himself. But, he didn't want to take her out on a potentially, no, strike that, an extremely dangerous rescue, either.

"We can take my truck. It'll go over debris and through water easier," Steve suggested.

"And I can fit, too, then. I promise I won't get out. Please, Danno?"

"No, no. Absolutely not. You're going to go stay at Brooklyn's house until we get back," Danny said. He cupped her face in his hand when she sighed and looked down. "Monkey, I'm not trying to be a fun sucker. I just want you safe, and a rescue mission near the ocean during a storm like this isn't safe."

"Your dad's right, Grace," Steve chimed in. He smirked. "I'll tell you all about it when we get back, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed sullenly.

"Alright." Danny stood up and reached for his phone. "Let me call Brooklyn."

Kono offered a hand to Grace to help her off the floor. "I'll tell you the rest of the scary story later. It doesn't look like Uncle Chin and I will be making it home tonight."

Grace cracked a grin. "I could make more s'mores."

Danny groaned dramatically. "Yes, because that's all I need. A house full of people hopped up on sugar."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", the team has to rescue some unlucky people out of a tricky spot.**

 **I'm debating whether or not to draw the stranger from the fairy tale. Sometimes things are creepier if you leave it up to the imagination of the reader. ;)**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	112. Fact 98

**My prayers go out to everyone who has been in the middle of the tornadoes, flooding, and whatever else.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #98: Dragons make ideal rescuers.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

"There. That must be the person that called it in." Steve pointed over the steering wheel at the pair of headlights standing stationary in the road up ahead.

The rain came in bursts, walls of water one minute and a misting sprinkle the next. On the drive over in Steve's truck, which had been a smart choice of vehicle seeing as they'd had to navigate around and over some tree branches, Danny could catch snatches of the ocean through his window. White capped waves on dark, violent waters didn't bode well for this rescue. He gripped the handlebar above the door a little tighter.

Steve pulled the truck off to the side of the road and left the flashers on. Hopefully some idiot wouldn't come barreling through here in this storm and ram into the truck parked on the side, but as Danny often said, it was better safe than sorry.

Danny yanked the hood on his raincoat up over his head as he jumped out and joined his partner in the currently pouring rain. The man that had been standing by the guardrail rushed over to meet them.

"Five-0. You the one who called HPD?" Steve asked, shouting to be heard over the torrential rain.

"Yeah. I barely saw 'em when I came around the bend back there." The man waved one arm toward the curve further up the road. He gestured for them to follow to the guardrail on the ocean side. "They're down there."

Danny peered over the edge, fighting to see anything except the gray sheets of rain. Over the deafening pitter patter in his ears, he heard the thunderous crashing of tumultuous waves on the rocks below. A sinking feeling opened in his gut. They may be too late.

Steve grabbed his shoulder and only now did he realize he'd been talking to him. "Danny, go get the big flashlights out of the lockbox on the truck."

Careful not to slip in the water streaming down the asphalt, he made his way to the bed of the Silverado. Kono sprang out of the backseat and helped him fish the equipment out of the lockbox.

"At least the rain's not freezing like it is in Jersey," he commented loudly to her.

"Did you just admit Hawaii has one advantage over Jersey, brah?" she questioned playfully.

"Nope!" He located the two big flashlights and handed one off to her. "This rain is still cold. I'd only be happy if it was bathwater warm."

"Whatever." She punched him in the shoulder. "You complain when the rain is warm in the summer. I believe your exact words were that it was like the sky was peeing on you."

"It's unnatural!"

Steve took the flashlight from him and shined it over the edge. It sliced through the rain, though the lessening ferocity of the droplets helped. Sweeping it slowly along the rocks, catching glimpses of the frothing waves, he almost missed them.

"There!" Danny pointed.

Steve moved the light back. Clinging to the rough black rocks for dear life was a man and a woman. How and why they had wound up there would have to wait. Right now, they needed to get them to safety.

"You guys good now?" the man that had originally spotted the people asked. "I was trying to get home to my kids, but didn't want to leave these guys out here by themselves."

"Go, go," Danny shooed him away. His kids needed him more than they did.

"What're you thinking, Boss?" Kono asked.

The rain faded to a miserable drizzle, still wet and cold, but they didn't have to yell to hear each other. The voluminous crashing of the waves became more pronounced in the quieted rain's wake. The nearly black water surged upward like a reaching hand, coming dangerously close to the couple on the rock face.

"We could lower ropes down to them," Chin suggested. Danny hadn't even heard him materialize beside him.

"I don't think we'd have a clear shot pulling them up," Steve said. "These rocks are sharp. They might fray the ropes."

"You have a better idea?" Danny asked, waving a hand at the couple. They looked like they were barely clinging on to the flat little shelf they'd found. If a wave came up high enough and engulfed them, it would be a recovery, not a rescue. "Don't you have Army tough rope or something?"

"Navy," Steve corrected absently, squinting down at the people and the surrounding area. "I think we might be able to pull them up through this gap. It's in the lockbox."

Kono raced back over to the truck and left the other three standing there.

"Hang on, guys. Help's on the way," Danny shouted down at the couple.

The man gave them a brief thumbs up before going back to clinging to the rocks.

"Steve!"

They swiveled to look at Kono.

"The ropes are gone!"

Danny turned and faced Steve. "Why does it always immediately go to Plan Z with you?"

"Plan Z? What happened to Plans B-Y?" Chin asked.

Steve started peeling off his raincoat. Danny didn't even need to ask what his plan was. After years of being partners, he just knew.

"Don't get cocky, huh? The ocean is still a mightier beast than you, got it?" Danny warned.

"Two would make it go faster," Kono said, unzipping her jacket already.

Chin eyed her. "Kono."

"I can probably only bring one up at a time," Steve said. He opened and ducked behind the back door of his truck, throwing his clothes in the backseat and definitely counting on no cars to drive by now. Someone would get a free show if they cruised by too slowly.

"I got this, cuz." Kono grinned, taking Steve's place to strip when he shifted smoothly and peered over the guardrail.

"Hey," Danny yelled down at the couple. Their rain streaked faces looked up at him. "There's a dragon coming down to get you. Don't freak out, okay? He doesn't bite."

Their faces shined in the halos from the flashlights, first confused then hopeful then terrified as a wave sent a magnificent arc of salty spray over them.

"Just please hurry!"

Danny leaned back and scrubbed his hands over his face. He glanced at Chin. "Learned from my pa that it's a good idea to let victims know a dragon's coming to save them. Prevents some panic on their part. Steve, please be careful, because I'm not swimming in dark, murky waters to save you."

"I'll be fine, bud," Steve assured.

Going headfirst, because he couldn't even climb down like a normal person, he eased over the guardrail and began his descent down the rock face. Danny tilted his flashlight to illuminate his path.

Chin watched with concern as Kono, fully shifted, slid over the edge after Steve. "Did your dad do a lot of shifting as a firefighter?"

"Nah, not as much as you'd think," Danny said. He braced one hand on the guardrail, eyeing his partner with some trepidation as Steve scaled the jagged rocks with the ease of a lizard while Kono followed in a less graceful fashion, slipping and sliding on the wet surface. "But, he knew a few Drakes in different firehouses around the city. He said people would nearly jump out of windows when they saw a creature walk through the fire towards them."

Chin snorted and nodded half-heartedly, intent on watching his cousin.

"And let's be honest, Steve kind of looks and acts like a monster sometimes," Danny added.

"The McGarrett Monster?"

"Oh yeah."

Said monster was currently finagling the man off the rocks into his foreleg. They couldn't hear too much of what was being said from their position above due to the waves, but could see the man awkwardly turning to wrap his arms around Steve's neck. Before Steve could move, however, a huge wave crashed into his back.

Danny held his breath.

Kono's tail dragged by with the receding of the wave, jerking her to the side, but she held fast onto the rocks. Steve's body had shielded the man and he had managed to grab the woman before she was washed away, hanging onto the rocks with one forefoot and his hindfeet, the other forefoot latched around the woman's wrist. Kono pulled herself upright and reached out to take her.

She had the woman wrap her arms around her neck and wrap her legs around her torso. With Kono being slenderer than Steve, the woman was able to lock her ankles and hold on while Kono climbed. Lacking the hooked claws and mobile ankle joints Steve possessed, she had to search for solid footholds while hauling herself up.

Steve, being built for climbing, bypassed their rookie and slithered over the guardrail first. Danny steadied the man once he let go of his partner. The man's knees buckled and he slumped to the ground, rubbing his bloody hands against his shorts.

"Hey, buddy, you okay? What were you doing down there?" Danny asked. He helped the man up and led him to the truck. He tossed Steve and Kono's clothes toward his partner subtly and sat the man in the backseat. "Here, sit down. Here's a towel."

"Is Mia okay?"

Assuming Mia was the woman with him, Danny nodded.

The man shivered, staring at his scraped and skinned hands with a blank expression. "We were j-j-just walking along a strip of sand t-t-taking pictures, and then the t-t-tide came in. Th-th-thought we c-c-could climb back up t-t-to the road, but got s-s-stuck on the r-r-rocks."

"Why were you taking a stroll during a hurricane?" Danny asked.

"We're f-f-from Nevada. Didn't r-r-realize the water w-w-was going to r-r-rise that f-f-fast. We were taking p-p-pictures of a waterspout," the man explained. He grinned crookedly. "One h-h-hell of a vacation s-s-story, right?"

Danny sighed and patted the guy's shoulder. Besides being cold and wet, he seemed okay. Chin led Mia over, allowing his cousin to split off and get her clothes from Steve. Mia hugged the man close and sobbed.

Steve reappeared fully clothed, though thoroughly soaked. He must have changed on the other side of the road. "I called Duke. He said he's got a patrol car coming by this way on route to the hospital. These two can get checked out."

"Th-th-thank you s-s-so much," the woman said. She furrowed her brows and glanced around. "Where'd the t-t-two dragons g-g-go?"

"They only ever pop up when we really need them," Danny said.

"Well, t-t-tell them we said th-th-thanks. A lot," the woman said and gave them a teary smile. She looked at her partner. "N-n-next time, we're going t-t-to Las Vegas."

* * *

The drive back to Danny's house was mostly quiet. They were all cold and wet. The rain was still a miserable drizzle, but the weather forecast called for more torrential downpours through the night. Danny prayed his house didn't flood. Or Steve's, or Chin's, or Kono's. The sober quiet was only broken by the swish-swish of the windshield wipers. And then it was really broken when Kono leaned between the front seats with a piece of fabric hanging off her finger.

"Yo, Boss," she said slyly. "You commando?"

Danny choked on a laugh and Steve flushed bright red, snagging the boxers and stuffing them under his thigh. "Danny didn't include them when he threw the rest of my clothes at me."

"Don't pretend you never go commando, Steven," Danny snickered.

"Oh, and how would you know, brah?" Kono asked, turning her quirked brow and smirk on him.

"Chin, get your cousin under control," Danny pleaded.

Chin dusted off his hands and held them up, declaring himself clean of anything from here on out.

"I know for a fact you wear boxers, Danny," she said. "But none of them are fun."

"Woah. How do you know he wears boxers?" Chin questioned.

"After the three of you got the crap beat out of you by Jupiter and everyone was staying at Steve's house, Danny sent me to go get clothes and shower stuff for him. Remember?"

It was Danny's turn to flush and for Steve to laugh.

"And I'm assuming Steve's got ones with grenades and rocket launchers on them?" Danny said, flicking his hand at his partner.

Steve's face remained straight. "Couldn't find any in my size."

Danny tried to prevent the snort, but couldn't. He barked out a laugh and had to wipe tears from his eyes as they pulled into his neighborhood. "Okay, no talk of underpants in front of my daughter. Understood?"

"I didn't start it!"

"It was a generalized statement. No more underpants, got it?"

"Yes, Danno," they chorused.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", a big fish tale gets out of hand.**

 **I'm reading Naomi Novik's series again (it took me almost a year to get through the second book), and it's got me all excited for world building again. So, expect some hopefully interesting stuff to pop up soon.**

 **On another note, I will be taking a two or three week hiatus again this summer with this series. I'm not one hundred percent sure of the dates, but I'm thinking after I post Fact #100 I'll take some time off while I'm traveling.**

 **Thank you all for continuing to read! This fall will be two years and I couldn't have done it without your input, conversations, questions, and support. Thank you all!**


	113. Fact 99

**Yes, I did see Godzilla: King of the Monsters in IMAX on Saturday. Why do you ask? ;)**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #99: Fish aren't the only ones that get bigger with each story told.**

 **Season: Mid Season 4**

Danny crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head back. "That's a big one."

Steve grunted in agreement.

"Shouldn't we let, oh, I don't know, the Army take care of this?"

"We can handle it."

"We can handle it, he says." Danny nodded and then flung his arms out in wild gesturing. "This is not something we can handle, Steven!"

Water poured off the back of the creature as it pulled itself out of the waves onto the beach. Wrinkled skin sagged off its neck and bunched around its legs now that it was no longer buoyed by the saltwater. The fins and paddle like tail were vaguely Amphibious looking, but Danny was sure this wasn't a dragon. At least, not any kind of dragon he'd ever seen.

For starters, it was way too big.

"So, Boss, you got a plan?" Kono asked.

Steve cracked his neck and pulled his shirt over his head. "Chase it back into the water."

"Oh. That simple, huh? Why didn't I think of that?" Danny huffed as Steve ran full tilt at the sea monster. "Because it's an insane plan, that's why!"

His partner shifted as he ran, coming to a halt in full dragon form in front of the beast. For once, Steve looked like a small dragon standing face to face with the blue whale sized being. Danny palmed his forehead as Steve roared.

The creature's enormous head tilted to the side as it eyed him with tiny eyes, its nostrils flaring and the whiskers on its snout twitching. All the spines erected along its back. Chest swelled. Eyes rolled back. Nasty teeth materialized as its jaws parted.

The roar, so loud and deep Danny could feel it in his bones, nearly knocked Steve off his feet.

Steve looked over toward them with Aneurism Face.

"Guess we better go help our fearless leader before he winds up man sushi," Danny sighed.

Kono had no fear of shifting and did so immediately, shedding her tank top and shorts as she ran to join Steve. Chin and Danny followed her. Danny wasn't ready to shift just yet, though he doubted even Super SEAL and kung fu Kono could get the upper hand with this thing.

Chin dodged back as the creature lifted a massive front foot and took a swipe at Steve. The claws may have been nothing like Danny's, but the foot itself could send a full grown dragon flying, no wings required.

"We can't let it go inland," Steve said. He ducked the claws and lurched upward, snapping at the whiskers dangling off the creature's chin.

The creature snorted and backpedaled. Being as big as it was, all of its movements seemed slowed down. Its tail sent a spray of water up as it stepped partially back into the ocean.

Kono did the same thing, biting at its whiskers.

Danny ran his fingers through his hair. "Seems like I was mistaken. Looks like they have it under control."

No sooner had the words left his mouth when the creature lowered its head, blocking access to its whiskers. It flicked its snout upwards. Steve went sailing through the air and hit the sand a few dozen yards away like a missile.

Danny rushed to his side. "Hey, you okay? Break anything with that impromptu flight?"

Steve jerked his head up from the sand and sneezed. He narrowed his eyes at Danny. "We could really use a hardy Cliff with meaty claws and a beak."

"Nope. Nuh uh. No way." Danny shook his head.

Kono landed in a heap not too far from Steve. She spat out sand. "That thing's got a mean swing."

Chin inclined his head toward the creature. It was slowly making its way back up the shore, tail dragging behind it. His brow furrowed in thought. "I think I have an idea."

"Care to share with the rest of the class before Godzilla makes it to civilization?" Danny asked.

"Just hold it off until I get back," Chin said, and disappeared behind the tree line.

Danny's hand fluttered out. "I think that was just an excuse for him to not have to deal with this utterly ridiculous situation we've now found ourselves in."

"Just shift," Steve growled as he got back to his feet and leapt back in front of the lumbering giant, blocking its path once again.

This was a secluded beach. That's why they had been playing there in the first place. It was quiet, away from tourists and locals, and beautiful to boot. They'd only exited the water when the far too gigantic fin had broken the surface and interrupted their surfing. This morning, Danny would've never imagined he would have to take on some prehistoric relic that had been long forgotten in the trenches of the deep.

"Danny!"

At his partner's frustrated bark, he resigned himself to the inevitable. Losing his shirt and kicking off his trunks, he shifted and joined the fray.

"We probably look like hors d'oeuvres to this guy," he said. The mouth was big enough to fit him inside it, wings and all. Not that he'd let himself get eaten without a fight.

"So don't let it take a bite out of you," Steve said. He raked his claws at the creature's snout and danced to the side out of its flashing teeth.

"No, I was planning on letting it take a chunk out of me, thanks," Danny griped.

He flared his wings out and hopped backward away from the dolphin smooth gray snout that swung his way. The briefest flicker of its eyes let him know his wings had caught its attention. Great.

Standing on his hindlegs, he spread his wings wide. He wondered if smoke and fire would scare it away. If he could get to the trees to get some wood to stoke, then maybe –

"Steven, what the heck do you think you're doing?!"

Steve had launched himself up on the creature's shoulder, using his hooked claws to dig into its hide. The beast, being too thick necked to reach around and grab him, bellowed in irritation. Needle teeth glimmered in the afternoon sunlight. They stood out against the black gums and thick saliva like shards of glass embedded in tar. He shuddered. Now Danny really didn't want to get caught in its teeth.

"Hey, hey, over here, you overgrown salamander!" he shouted.

He raised his wings again. A beady eye locked onto him.

"What is your cousin's insane plan, Kono?" he questioned, leaping out of the way.

"I don't know, brah! We can't read each other's minds," she yelled back.

"Well, whatever it is, he better hurry, before this thing – ah!"

"Danny!"

When he had turned to scurry away from the approaching maw, the creature had latched onto the tip of his tail. It lifted him clear off the ground, his wings flailing out in a spastic flapping pattern. His spine protested at the unnatural hold and the blood rushed to his head. He was at least thankful dragon tails didn't pop off like lizard tails.

Craning himself upright, using muscles he didn't know he had, he plunged his claws into the creature's throat. Or at least tried to. It was like trying to push a butter knife through a tree. His claws only sunk so deep before halting in the tough flesh.

"Drop it!"

Danny woofed out a lungful of air as he landed in the sand. Gathering his limbs, he bolted away from the monstrous feet before one could step on him.

"Did you just tell it to drop me like a dog toy?" he shouted up at Steve.

Steve perched precariously on top of the creature's great head, trying to hit its eye again. "Would you rather me have let it continue to chew on you?"

"Not really, no."

"You're welcome."

Danny shook the sand out of his wings, getting ready to flash them again. Maybe he should get some wood into his stoking chamber first, though. He split off toward the tree line and almost ran into Chin.

"Took you long enough," he said. One set of claws gestured to what he was holding in his hands. "Are you serious? That's your genius plan?"

"You got a better one?" Chin asked calmly with a perked brow.

Danny looked over his shoulder at Kono and Steve barely hanging onto the beast's back like a couple of frogs on an alligator. "I guess insane situations call for equally insane plans. Okay, let's light 'em up."

"Kono! Clear out!" Chin shouted.

Kono glanced over at him and at seeing what he was positioning in the sand, immediately jumped clear of the creature, yelling at Steve as she did so. Steve vaulted off the thing's head and barreled over toward them.

The first firework went squealing out of the tube.

The creature squawked as it hit its hide and exploded in a dazzling display of green and blue sparkles.

"Line them up in the sand," Steve ordered.

They started planting the mortars like crooked tree stumps. Danny angled his at hopefully the correct angle before Chin lit the fuse. He quickly moved on to light two more fuses.

 _Bang!_

Red sparkles.

 _Bang!_

 _Bang!_

White sparkles. Blue sparkles.

 _Pop!_

Danny frowned. He swiveled his head to the side and caught sight of his partner holding a Roman candle and grinning like a madman.

 _Pop, pop! Pop! Pop, pop, pop!_

The creature tossed its head to and fro, utterly confused by the blinding lights and loud sounds.

 _Pop!_

"There's always one last one in those things," he said as a final ball of green landed on the creature's snout.

Giving a discontented grumble, it turned tail and slid back into the water. Steve hit it in the butt with their last mortar just to be sure before it disappeared beneath the waves and was gone.

The silence that followed after was strange. Like it had never happened.

Kono was the one to break it. "Aren't these illegal, cuz?"

"Are you disappointed I had them with me?"

Kono grinned. "No. I'm just disappointed you didn't get me any."

Danny flicked his claws out toward the rolling ocean. "Shouldn't we let the Coast Guard know about this? Or are we all going to pretend this never happened?"

"Do you think they'd believe us?" Chin asked.

Danny concurred with that probability. "So, we'll just keep the Battle of the Beach between us. Sounds good. Nothing will go wrong with that."

"You worry too much, Danno."

* * *

Grace eyed the four of them suspiciously. Though they were no longer on the floor, they were still all in the living room at Danny's house while the storm raged on outside.

"That didn't happen," Grace finally decided.

"What? Are you calling me a liar?" Steve asked, looking hurt.

"No. I think it's a big fish story," she said. "Dragons don't get that big. Not anymore. They got big in dinosaur times, but not now. Right, Danno?"

Danny shrugged. "I've seen some pretty big dragons."

"Come on! That wasn't for real!" she insisted.

"I guess we'll never know," Kono said and leaned back with a smug grin.

Grace huffed. "Tell me a real story. No extra stuff added, okay?"

Danny chuckled as he pushed off the couch. The four of them had conspired on the spot to make up that story, each taking turns telling it. Of course, it had a small seed of truth. Only, that seed consisted of the four of them playing on the beach and Steve shooting Roman candles at Danny. No sea monster involved. Unless Steve counted.

As he stood in the kitchen looking into the fridge for another beer, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He didn't recognize the number.

"Danny Williams," he answered.

" _Detective Williams of the Five-0 Taskforce?"_

He frowned at the woman's voice as he popped the cap off the beer bottle. "Yes. Who is this?"

" _I'm Agent Harrier. I work for the Dragons' Rights Division of the FBI. I have some news for you."_

"For me in a personal capacity or in a work capacity?"

" _Case related."_

"Hold on a second," Danny said. He cupped his hand over the mouthpiece and leaned around the doorway. "Hey, Steve. Come here."

Receiving odd and questioning looks from the others, he waited until his partner was standing by his side and then put the phone on speaker.

"Alright. I have Commander McGarrett here with me."

" _I tried contacting the Commander first. No answer. Moved on down the list."_

"Dead battery. I apologize. What's all this about?" Steve asked.

" _We've had a development in the case concerning Marilyn Walker's trafficking ring."_

The hairs on the back of Danny's neck prickled. His mouth went dry. He was almost afraid to ask.

"What kind of break?"

" _We've found some of the kids."_

* * *

 **Next time on "Dragons", the team gathers startling intel from the DRD about the kids off the ships.**

 **Also, there's an artwork on the page if you want to give it a look.**

 **Hey guys. A friend of mine passed away suddenly Monday morning. She was fine, then went septic and into renal failure Sunday, and then she was gone. I'm not in the best headspace right now, but I'll try to make sure to get Fact #100 out next week. May not be on Tuesday, but I'll try to get it out at some point.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! I hope you all have a fun and safe summer. :)**


	114. Fact 100

**Huh. It's here. Weird.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading and for being a good friend in general. ;)**

* * *

 **Fact #100: Nothing is worse than children suffering for the sins of others.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 4**

Agent Harrier had nut brown skin, cocoa hair falling just below her shoulders, and dark eyes that related too many horrors she had seen during her tenure as an agent of the Dragons' Rights Division. That's what Danny got from her, anyway, via the sketchy Skype call they had initiated. Pixels kept freezing here and there, and to avoid the problematic audio, they kept her on speakerphone instead of trying to understand the crackled and intermittent words through the computer.

"We'd have a better connection at the Palace," Chin said, shaking his head at the poor quality.

Danny waved a hand at the pouring rain visible through the sliding glass door into his backyard. "Do you really want to risk trying drive there in this?"

"I'm sorry about the inconvenience, Ma'am. Oahu's catching the backlash of a passing storm," Steve apologized.

" _I understand, Commander. Under other circumstances, I would have just sent an email, but I felt you needed to hear this in person. Or, at least, in pixelated person as it appears to be."_

They had convened in the dining room, having to explain to Grace that this was police business. Though Danny was her dad and was the most adamant about it, the other three didn't want her to know the horrifying details to the case of the Breeders, either. An eleven-going-on-twelve year old didn't need that in her nightmares. Silently nodding, she wished them the best of luck catching the bad guys or wrapping up the case or whatever they were doing and got onto Netflix on the TV in the living room. Danny wasn't sure whether or not to be proud or saddened by the fact that his daughter understood his job that well.

"Okay. Start from the beginning. How did you find these kids?" Danny asked. He clasped his hands on the table in front of him and let out a shaking breath.

" _After you arrested Agent Ricardo Medrano, the DRD started looking inward at itself as did the FBI teams that were assisting with the rest of the take down of Walker's operations. We found three more moles. One in San Diego, one in New York, and one in our Miami branch."_

Danny massaged his forehead. How deep had this operation gone? How many other agents were on the payroll? No wonder Marilyn had been able to move place to place without getting caught. They'd arrested a few port authorities earlier in the year already, and now there were four FBI agents in custody. What next?

"Did they tell you where the kids were?" Kono ventured.

Harrier shook her head. Or, at least, it looked like she did. It could've been the video freezing and jumping. " _One was shot when they tried to take him in and the other two lawyered up before their Miranda rights were finished being read to them."_

Steve's face pinched. "Then how did you locate the children?"

" _They showed up on our doorstep."_

"They what?" Danny's brows shot up.

"How do you know they're from the ships or even related to the operation at all?" Chin asked.

Harrier tapped at her keyboard. " _You're not going to believe this. But we've spent the last week verifying it before we brought you in. Not only did the kids get dropped in our laps, we've got evidence of who had them before they showed up here."_

"How?" Steve asked.

" _Most of them had a birth certificate or some form of papering with them."_

Danny combed his fingers through his hair roughly. "Were you able to arrest them? Can you use them to find the others involved?"

" _Check the email I sent you, Detective."_

Glancing at the little icon on the bottom of the screen, he clicked it. He really needed to clean out his inbox. He scrolled upward to the most recent unread email, opened it, and downloaded the photo heavy file she'd sent him.

"Do you have any way of knowing who the biological parents of the children are?" Steve asked while they waited for the file to load.

Danny sensed what he was getting at. They both wanted to know if any of the children that had turned up were Tamarin's.

" _No. We can run DNA against anyone you guys pulled off the ships or the ones we pulled out of Miami, but Walker had a high turnover rate. She only had a few favorites she kept around. I'm afraid to say we may never know and that many of these kids' parents are deceased. I understand you're close to Tamarin Noble, Detective, and I read she had two others before her current baby. I'm sorry I can't offer you more that way."_

The file opened in a PDF. The first thing his eyes fell on was the insert of a residential fire. In Denver. The one he'd been looking into before Steve commandeered him for graffiti sightseeing.

"What's this about the fire?" Steve asked, noticing the tension ratcheting up in Danny's shoulders.

" _Arson investigators declared it an accident. No signs of foul play. Our own investigations haven't turned up anything different, but I don't believe it was an accident that killed the Alpines. What the police and news reports don't tell you, is that not everyone died in this fire. This little guy survived and was taken to our Denver branch."_

Danny enlarged the photo below the news story. Sitting on a doctor's examination bed was a Wyvern crossbreed. He had the nubby beginnings of a classic crown of horns and small spikes from his forehead to his tail. Black scales striped through with clover green, nearly translucent emerald wings, and startling ice blue eyes made him a handsome fellow. The part that made his blood boil was the thin chain collar around his neck.

" _The DRD relies on trusted doctors versed in both human and dragon biology, and they're the ones handling the health of these kids for now. Doctor Stockton examined him and places him around the five year old mark. He doesn't appear to have been mistreated physically, but some of his behavior has led our resident psychiatrist to believe he was treated more like a prized purebred Savannah cat rather than a proper child. He has a decent vocabulary, can count to ten, and asks questions. All the time. But he can't read, can't shift, and hasn't been around other kids his age. He told us his name is Basil."_

Danny dragged his nails across his table. Claws were itching to sprout and tear through something and the heat at the base of his ribcage came on with his anger. The acidic heat rolled through his chest, flushing his face and giving him a heady, furious sort of sensation.

"And he came to you guys back in December? That's when the fire happened, right?" he clarified.

" _He was the first. No papers. We didn't realize he was related to Walker's operation until the second kid showed up here in New York. You see that Drake listed underneath Basil? That's Hazel. She was brought into our lobby by a bum off the street. He said she just showed up in his tent with a note telling him to take her to us, and so he did. We've got nothing on him and couldn't get anything from where he's living. No security feed, no fingerprints, no eyewitnesses to tell us how she got there."_

"She looks like Uncle Haku," Kono murmured to Chin behind Danny's back.

Plump with bright yellow eyes and sable scales streaked through with paler colors, she was no bigger than a corgi dog. And the way she was cowering away from the doctor's hands in the photo reminded Danny of a dog, too.

" _Physically, she's healthy. Mentally, she's feral. Acts more like a skittish dog. Stockton puts her a little over two years old."_

Steve leaned in closer, his warmth and general presence helping bring Danny's rage to a manageable level. Underneath the rage he recognized the symptoms of anxiety. His rapid heartbeat. Shallow breaths. Tightening throat. Clenched chest. He was glad Steve took over speaking to Harrier because he didn't think he could do it without having a breakdown one way or the other.

"And the people who had her?" Steve asked.

" _The papers she came with said she'd been adopted by Lewis and Dot Harrington. Just so happens that a week before she showed up in the DRD lobby, the Harringtons left the country. Their passports were clocked at JFK heading to Juarez. From there they dropped off the face of the earth. We've got warrants for their arrest, but I doubt they're going to resurface."_

Chin exhaled slowly. "How are these kids linking back to the Breeders?"

" _Bank statements. Hazel came with records of the Harringtons' finances over the last three years. There was a very large sum deposited into a shell corporation's account on October, 28, 2011 right around the time they adopted Hazel. That dummy account is one of the ones you dug up for Walker, Lieutenant."_

"Did they all come with records?" Kono asked.

" _All except for Basil. We're not sure if he's connected to this sudden appearance of kids from the ships or if his appearance was a coincidence. But, when Hazel came in, she not only had the Harringtons' account statements, but the Alpines', as well. Same thing. Large transfer of money that correlates to Basil's estimated birthdate."_

"How many kids have turned up?" Danny asked, or croaked, rather. He swallowed stiffly and tried to relax the burning in his chest and the cold tingling in his spine and palms.

" _Six so far. From all different sources around the States. Their photos are included in that file."_

"Amphibian/Arboreal in Houston?" he asked as he scrolled down through the PDF. He felt Steve tense.

" _His given name is Frog. About three years old. Signs of malnourishment and physical mistreatment. He doesn't speak. Very timid. Parents, adopters, kidnappers, whatever the hell you want to call them, were arrested for money laundering. They're not getting out of prison anytime soon after we dump all these charges on them."_

The variegated blue striped and spotted dragon with the light green eyes looked scrawny and sickly in the photo. Barely on his webbed feet. Danny's stomach turned.

"Arboreal/Serpent in Miami?" Kono pointed at the next photo. Her hand trembled slightly. Whether it was from anger or mourning, Danny didn't know.

The sinewy kid was a brilliant yellow with chocolate edging on its rounded scales, a peach and black striped crest running from neck to hips with similarly colored gliding wings spread clumsily about her, and deep blue eyes that stared curiously up at the camera while the photo was being taken.

" _Cornelia. She's about two years old. She's a bit like Basil. We think she was treated well, but not treated like a kid. She also had a collar on. Paper trail leads to the Vanderwals, who, you guessed it, also disappeared. They went on a tour of the mangroves and never reappeared. Cornelia showed up at our Miami branch two days later."_

"Do you have any clues how or why these people are disappearing or turning up dead?" Steve asked as Danny scrolled down further, silently praying that Frog was the odd one out and most of the others were at least taken care of somewhat respectably.

" _No. Nothing looks out of the ordinary, except for the obvious. If it was one case, then I would understand and pass it off. But for all of these guys to meet some sort of mysterious tragedy?"_

"You know what they say about coincidences," Chin said.

" _They take a lot of planning."_

"How old is the Serpent from the Hamptons?" Danny asked. He squinted at the photo. It was rare to see dragons under the age of twelve, which was the common age for kids to learn to start shifting fully, though he knew he, Steve, and Kono were outliers on that scale. It was hard to determine how old some of these kids were in their dragon forms.

This particular kid was nearly a purebred Serpent by the looks of it. Long, elegant neck, slender tail as long or longer than its body, whiskers just beginning to sprout at the end of its snout, dark brown eyes, small pale horns at the back of the head, and covered over with iridescent tangerine scales.

" _Lien. She's four. Speaks both Vietnamese and English. Or, as well as a four year old can. Treated extremely well. Very intelligent. She's been reserved since being separated from the Campbells. Stephanie Campbell has vanished and her husband James has been vehemently denying having any knowledge of where Lien came from."_

Steve frowned. "What do you think?"

" _I think he's telling the truth. Records place Lien in Stephanie's custody before she married James. There's no hard evidence to support or dispute this, but I believe she really did tell him Lien was her biological daughter when they got married instead of a trafficked child, and he had no reason to think otherwise."_

Steve scrubbed his hands through his hair and glanced over at Danny. "What do you think, bud?"

"What do I think? I think these people are getting what they deserve for trafficking these kids," Danny bit out. He sighed and sat back, flitting his hand loosely through the air. "But, with them disappearing one by one, we have less of a chance of connecting them to as of yet undiscovered buyers and more kids. And, these poor kids are caught in the middle of it all."

Kono ticked off her fingers under her breath and then looked up. "Who's the sixth one?"

" _Last picture."_

Danny scrolled to the next page and stopped cold. His stoking chamber abruptly ground to a halt and the sudden decrease in heat made him chilled. His stomach churned, bile burning in his throat, and the world tilted.

" _Logan. He was the last one to show up about two weeks ago."_

Steve clasped his shoulder firmly.

The small dragon was ginger scaled swirled with darker colors throughout and a creamy underbelly. Stormy blue eyes stared at the doctor's hands in the photo with apprehension. And coppery wings marbled with tarnished blues flared to either side of him.

"Oh my god," Danny whispered hoarsely. "He's a Cliff."

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", there're more kids, some familiar faces, Danny almost throws up, and the McGarrett Monster appears.**

 **There's art on the art page.**

 **So, I threw myself into writing this last week as a coping mechanism, but now it's Part II I'm worried about getting out on time. I've got more stuff going on this week as well as my friend's funeral. Fingers crossed I'll have it done by Tuesday, but it's iffy.**

 **Thanks for being so understanding guys, and thank you for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	115. Fact 100 Part II

**Hahaha! It's here. It's late, but it's here. And it's a big one.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #100: Nothing is worse than children suffering for the sins of others.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 4**

 **Part II**

 _One week ago, Santa Barbara…._

"Shawn, you know this is a bad idea. Juliet and Lassiter told us not to come up here again."

Shawn waved off his friend's concerns with his usual aplomb. "They got the bad guys, Gus. Plus, how could I say no to Rosita? Not after she fed us those amazing pancakes."

"You realize she stabbed her employer with a pair of garden shears, right?"

Shawn pivoted on his heel once they rounded the massive log cabin and came to the manicured backyard. The place didn't sit on a huge estate. Rather, it was nestled into the mountains and surrounded by large spruces and sections of thick undergrowth. The rustle of the breeze in the trees combined with the birdsong and the lapping of the nearby lake made it idyllic, if it were not for the overcast clouds darkening the woods today and the murders that had happened merely the day before.

He spied the second story bedroom window that faced the endless copse of trees. It was in the exact place where he figured the secret room was. The walls had seemed off to him when he'd been wandering, definitely not snooping, the cabin yesterday afternoon.

"I'm sensing something," he said, lifting one hand to his temple.

Gus slapped it down. "Dude. Seriously?"

"Sorry. Habit," he said.

He led the way over the yellow grass and beyond the yard into the trees. He paused when he could no longer hear Gus behind him. His friend had stopped at the edge of the yard.

"I'm not getting eaten by a bear."

Shawn sighed and rolled his head. "Gus, you're not going to get eaten by a bear. It's winter. They sleep while it's cold and then pop out of the ground like ravenous flowers in the spring. Now come on, buddy."

Gus shook his head, arms firmly crossed in front of his chest. "No way. Huh uh. It's been an unusually warm winter for this area and the bears are not hibernating as long as they're supposed to. You know what a hungry bear would like as soon as he lumbers out of his cave? Chocolate. You know what I am? Chocolate. Warm, tender, chocolate."

"You were out here in the woods with me yesterday and didn't mention a bear."

"That's because I was more focused on the crazy dude chasing us with a shotgun."

"Well, I'm going with or without you." Shawn turned and walked into the shadows of the spruces, sneakers crunching over patches of snow that had drifted in places. It was mostly dirt and needles on the ground, though, because Gus was right. It had been unusually warm. Which may have been a good thing in this case. "But, if I die, tell Juliet I did so valiantly. And that there were ten bears. And possibly a cougar. Maybe some elves, too."

He smirked as he heard Gus tsk and come crunching after him. Worked every time.

"What're we doing out here, anyway?" Gus asked huffily, tucking his hands under his armpits against the chilly breeze.

"You know how I said that the second floor of the cabin was off?"

"Yeah."

"It's because there was another room hidden behind the walls. You can see the window from the backyard."

"Okay. So? Mr. and Mrs. Müller have a lot of money. Maybe they've got a secret room for…storage or wine or cheeses from around the world. Or maybe it's a secret meat smoking room."

Shawn glanced at him. "You hungry or something?"

"You know I didn't get lunch."

"You inhaled that bag of jerky on our way up here."

"It was half empty, and I burn more energy in the cold. We should go back to that sandwich place on the–"

"Woah, woah, woah. Stop." Shawn cocked his head to the side. Gus held his foot above the splotch of snow, just hovering. Shawn crouched and pushed it aside to get a better look at the print he'd spotted. "This is why we're out here. Look."

Gus frowned at the print. "The mother of all raccoons?"

"That's not from a raccoon. That's a dragon footprint," Shawn said.

Gus grabbed his arm as he stood up. "Shawn, a bear is one thing. Did you drag me out into the woods where we have no cell service to find a murderous dragon?"

Shawn clucked his tongue. "Does that look big enough to be a murderous dragon to you?"

"Evil comes in small packages."

Shawn peered upward as Gus continued on with his rant on various evil people of short stature.

The tangled boughs shrouded what little light there was in the sky, creating a dark canopy above them. Limbs twisted and wound around each other, a confusing maze of wood and needles. The deep blue-greens and natural browns bled into each other, alternating light and dark areas breaking up the individual shapes of single trees.

Shawn brought his fingers to his head again. "I spy with my little eye, something that doesn't belong. Though, if you want to get technical, this is probably a natural habitat for what I'm spying."

"Shawn, what're you–"

"It's a bird, it's a plane! No, it's a little Arboreal dragon hiding in the branches!" With a flourish he flung a hand out at a fork in one of the trees.

One of the indistinguishable shadows twitched and moved, disappearing around the side of the tree.

"Dude. I totally saw your tail. You can come down," Shawn called.

A head peered around at them.

"You wouldn't happen to be a murderous beast with a taste for chocolate, would you?" Gus asked. He squawked from an elbow to the ribs. "Ow!"

"No," the small, young, timid voice floated down toward them. "Who're you?"

"I'm Shawn Spencer, Psychic Detective. And this is my partner Bear Grylls-but-can't-bake."

"Are you cops?"

"No. We're way cooler than cops," Shawn said. He held up his hands in a nonaggressive display. "You wanna come back to earth? I'm sure you're pretty hungry and cold, seeing as you've been hiding out here since early this morning."

"How'd you know that?"

"Psychic."

The head peeked around more fully. Shawn had the distinct sense he was being sized up.

"You guys have guns?"

"Nope. No guns. Just us and our good looks."

"Leashes? Collars? Muzzles?"

Shawn shared a look of muted horror with Gus. "Hey, if you're worried we're here to hurt you or take you back to the Müllers, don't sweat it. Rosita sent me out here to find you."

" _Tía_?" The voice pitched up in excitement. "Is she okay?"

"She's all good. She's with some friends of ours right now," he said. The kid's _tía_ was sitting in an interrogation room at the SBPD with hopefully Jules and not Lassie. "She told me to come find her _mijo_."

A shower of needles and bark rained on their heads as the kid scaled easily twenty to thirty feet back down to the ground.

Shawn had been right. He was an Arboreal, with maybe some Drake mixed in there judging by the shorter face and thicker scales. His head only came up to Shawn's hip, but he was lanky. His scales were turquoise with ultramarine mottled on his back and gliding wings, his bright eyes a soft brown.

"You hungry? I've been saving a Snickers in my pocket." He held up the candy bar.

"You told me we didn't have any candy left," Gus murmured.

"Yes, Sir. I'm starving," the kid said, wide eyes on the Snickers.

"Woah. My dad is Sir. You can call me Shawn. Or Psych-man and his sidekick, Mr. Magic Head," he said and handed the bar off to the eager kid.

"My name's Gus. How long have you been out here?" Gus asked, sharing the same confused and worried look with Shawn. Something about this case had been unsettling from the get-go.

"Since this morning," the kid said, mouth full of chocolate, peanuts, caramel, and nougat. " _Tia_ told me to hide and she'd come for me later."

"What's your name?" Shawn asked. One brow went up at the speed with which the Snickers was consumed.

"Terrance, Sir – I mean, Shawn," the kid apologized for his mistake quickly.

Shawn frowned as images from the past two days filtered through his head at lightning speeds most people couldn't process. Occasionally, remembering everything was a nightmare as was the training his dad had pounded into him, but this was useful. Newspapers on Chief Vic's desk. Crime reports on Jules' computer. Lassie's comments. His dad's muttered cursing. Piece by piece, two and two came together to make four, and then he had a picture of a crime that made his stomach turn.

And he wasn't the queasy one of the two.

"Terrance, how old are you?"

"Nine."

He was a bit older than Shawn thought he would've been.

"Hey. Dumb question. Are the Müllers your real parents?" he asked.

Terrance stared up at him in shock. "No."

And here was the clincher. "Then why were you living with them?"

"They bought me when I was a baby."

* * *

 _Today, Oahu…._

Danny kept a hand on the side of the porcelain bowl to stay grounded. The ground swayed under him. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. In and out. In and out. In. And out. Don't barf. Don't barf.

He'd had to excuse himself in a hurry. Seeing the young Cliff had sent a spear of panic and ice cold fear lancing through his body. The ginger color and marbling were too close to his scale colors. Too close. And the blue eyes. The single nubby nose horn.

He didn't know how long he'd been on the ship before he'd woken up. He'd been out long enough for them to smuggle him from the hospital to the docks, then onto a smaller boat, and then out to the ship where he was stuffed into a shipping container and left for who knows how long until he regained consciousness.

A lot could've happened in between.

He started as a warm hand settled on his shoulder.

"Easy, buddy. It's just me."

Steve's voice. A lifeline in this tumultuous storm. Just like Tamarin's had been on the ship.

Swallowing thickly, he lifted his head and looked up at his partner. "Steve…."

He couldn't even voice his concern. Like if he said it, it would be true. The words died in his throat and he instead conveyed his pain with his eyes. Thankfully, Steve didn't need words to understand. He simply tightened his grip on his shoulder.

"I know, Danno. I know." Steve glanced away momentarily and aggressively dragged the back of his hand across his face.

"Are those tears?" he rasped.

Steve didn't answer verbally. He shook his head. "Danny, Logan's two and a half. He's too old to be yours."

He deflated and slumped against the toilet, resting his forehead on his arm. "Marilyn had another Cliff before me."

"Yeah," Steve answered softly.

"But, that doesn't mean I wasn't…." He clenched his fists and ground his teeth, stubbornly fighting back the hot tears stinging his eyes. "What if one…or more of those kids out there…are mine?"

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. _If_ we come to it. You hear me, partner?"

"Oh god," he whispered. "You weren't there, Steve. You don't know."

Steve's hand slid from his shoulder to the back of his neck. An anchor. A comforting presence. His best friend, through thick and thin. He held onto it while the nausea passed.

After a few beats Steve spoke. "You know who might know?"

"That witch Marilyn."

"No," Steve said. "Tamarin."

Danny stared blankly at the tiles on the floor. Tamarin knew the workings of the operation better than they did. She had been awake when he was brought onboard. But what if he asked her and she confirmed his fears? What then? He'd dealt with victims as a cop, but never in his worst nightmare believed he would be one.

"The not knowing's going to eat you up worse."

He huffed wetly. "And he reads minds, too. He really is Super SEAL."

"I know you."

Sighing, he lifted his head and sat back against the cabinets under the sink. Thumbing the unwanted tears away, he took a few seconds to collect himself lest he crack. "Go grab my phone, would you?"

Steve left for a moment. In that silence, he prepared himself for the possibility that he'd been more than kidnapped. He also prepared himself for the possibility Tamarin didn't know, and then he'd have to live with the constant fear and horror of the unknown hanging over his head.

"Here."

He took his phone out of Steve's hand and scrolled through his contacts. When Steve didn't move, he glanced up at his partner as he shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"What?" he asked.

Steve scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I'll give you some privacy."

"No." He snagged his pantleg. "No. Just…sit down, huh?"

Steve complied and dropped onto his butt next to Danny, pressing his side against him. Danny exhaled shakily and selected her name with a trembling finger.

Steve clasped his knee. "I'm right here with you."

"Thanks," he said almost inaudibly.

Putting it on speaker, they listened to it ring once. Twice. Three times. Then, it clicked.

" _Hello?"_

"Hey, babe. I didn't wake you up, did I?" Danny asked.

" _I keep odd hours anymore, between the baby and the anti-anxiety pills. How are you, sweetheart? I saw a storm's going over the island. Are you alright?"_

Danny shared a pointed look with Steve. Her concern was always more focused on the other person than herself. "Yeah. We're fine. A lot of rain and wind, but we're doing okay. I actually had a question for you."

" _Really? Can't see how I'm much help with anything. I've got mush for a brain half the time with my ever changing meds and lack of sleep."_

"I'm sorry, Tamarin. I know it can't be easy for you," he said. He had a hard time dealing himself. "Um. Do you…do you remember when they…brought me onto the ship?"

Silence.

" _Yes."_

He swallowed convulsively, fighting with his brain and his tongue to get the question out. "Do you…do you know if…if…they did…do you remember…did they…do anything to me…while I was unconscious?"

Silence. Painful, dreadful, agonizing silence.

" _Why?"_

He combed his fingers through his hair, his tenuous hold on his composure failing. "They've found some of the kids off the ships and one of them…one of them is a Cliff…and I…."

There was a ragged exhaled and what may have been a choked sob.

" _They've found the kids?"_

"Not all of them, but some of them," he answered. The knot in his throat grew tighter. "Tamarin. I need to know. Was I...raped?"

" _Oh, sweetheart. My fierce sweetheart. No. You weren't. They didn't do that to you. That was Doctor Krimshaw's…that was his…but he wasn't onboard the day they brought you on. You escaped before they could use you like that. And I'm so happy you did, because no one…no one deserves that."_

Danny lolled his head to the side, landing it on Steve's shoulder. It was like the boulder on his chest floated away and he could breathe again. In the absence of his overwhelming anxiety and terror, a familiar emotion settled in the void. One he could use to his advantage.

Rage.

* * *

 _Today, London…._

It was a cozy place. Like most places in urban Britain, its neighbors were claustrophobically close compared with most American neighborhoods, but the abundance of trees and rich green plants provided a little privacy. Ivy covered the garden wall in a thick curtain with only one gap in the growth, that being where it had been trimmed away from the iron gate.

Shamrock edged along the stone pathway up to the door. Whether the current residents had a green thumb or the dense plants were just a product of the natural moisture and milder climate, she didn't know. The bleeding hearts on either side of the doorway were well manicured enough to make her believe it was a combination of both.

Having ditched her pencil skirt, she wore a casual white cotton collared shirt and black slacks with red Converse. Her ginger locks were scooped back into a ponytail, as well. The lack of bodyguards also made her less imposing.

She knocked and didn't have to wait long before the door opened.

"Yes? May I help you?" The woman standing in the crack of the door was older with pixie cut hair and a wary face.

"Hello. I'm here to see your daughter, Tamarin," Shamrock said with a polite smile.

The woman's hackles raised. "And you are?"

"My name's Shauna McCarthy. I'm a friend of Danny Williams," she said. "May I come in?"

The woman remained an impassable barrier into the house, old laugh lines hardened in suspicion. "Danny Williams, you say? Real tall guy, blond hair? From New York City?"

Shamrock actually had to crack a chuckle at the question and give the woman credit for playing that card. "Danny Williams, short of stature and big of bite, hailing from Newark, New Jersey. I know Tamarin named her son after him."

After a tense moment of silence, the woman finally offered her hand. "My name is Chetna. Danny is a good man and I am glad to welcome a friend of his into my house. But I must ask, what are you doing here?"

"I know more about Tamarin's situation than most," she said.

"Are you an officer or investigator as well?" Chetna asked as she led them to the living room.

"Of sorts," she said and perched on the edge of the couch. "I assist various organizations through information or contacts I come across in my business."

"And just what is your business?" Chetna inquired, sitting down across from her.

Shamrock remained placid despite the third degree. "Acquisitions. I don't mean to take much of your time today, Mrs. Noble. I only wish to speak with Tamarin, and you're more than welcome to sit in on the conversation."

Chetna stared at her. Shamrock accepted the guarded attitude leveled her way and allowed her time to decide whether or not to throw her out. There were easier ways to have done this. Neither Joey nor Achutebe had been reluctant to suggest them, but they hadn't stopped her, either. They were probably outside at the moment, stalking the neighborhood and the house.

"Tam, a friend of Danny's is here," Chetna finally called down the hallway.

A door opened and a head poked out.

Shamrock stood. Thin, bedraggled, dark circles under her eyes, limping miserably, Tamarin was more of an abused creature than she had expected. Not that she didn't know what to expect. And Tamarin wasn't the worse looking thing to come from the trafficking world. Shamrock had seen that gritty side of humanity and often had dealings with those shadowy figures.

Still. The sight made her normally neutral face twitch with a frown.

"Tamarin, my name's Shauna McCarthy," she said.

Tamarin sat carefully in the easy chair, drawing in on herself with her knee to her chest and her shoulders inward. "You're a friend of Danny's?"

"We bump into each other at work," she answered and offered a tiny grin. She took in the red rimmed eyes and puffy redness of her face as well as the low croak of her voice. "You've heard about the children in the custody of the Dragons' Rights Division, I take it."

She nodded and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes to stop the fresh flow of tears. "It's all so terrible. They only have a few of them and there are so many more. I know there are so many more."

"And you worry for your other two," Shamrock said.

Chetna raised a brow at her. "How do you know about this? You are not part of Five-0, nor do I think you are a DRD agent. Who are you?"

Shamrock steepled her fingers. "I told you I'm in acquisitions. I run a shipping company. Occasionally, I have clients in odd circles. Or, I have people who come to me for assistance."

"So why are you here?" Chetna questioned. She had crept closer to the edge of her chair, ready to lunge should things take a sour turn. And Shamrock didn't doubt the Indian woman would take her on with her bare hands.

"I had a couple come to me a month or two ago," she explained calmly. She perfectly understood the fierce protective nature of Chetna and the sensitivity of her daughter's situation and history. Showing no outward fear nor malice, she relaxed back into the couch. "They had made a purchase."

"A purchase? What are you on about?" Chetna scowled at her.

Out of the corner of her eye, though, she saw Tamarin swallow convulsively and nearly crawl out of her seat. "No, no, no, no, no, no–"

"Tam, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Chetna jumped from her chair and crouched by her daughter, hands on her shoulder and shaking hand.

"The business they made their purchase from went under before they received their investment," she continued. "And they hired me to retrieve it."

Watching realization light up someone's eyes was an incredible thing to see. Seeing a student grasp a particularly hard concept during a lecture. Seeing a father's face glow when he finally put together the subtle hints from his wife that they were going to have a baby. Seeing a mother's sharp intake of breath and jaw tense up when Shamrock's words clicked.

"Over my dead body!" Chetna threatened with a roar. Though no bigger than Shamrock, she was indeed fiercer looking in her anger, especially when she grabbed the fire poker from beside the unlit fireplace. "Tam, call the police."

Shamrock held up both hands. Joey and Achutebe had no doubt heard the commotion through her earpiece and she needed to cool the situation before they sprang into action. "There's no need for that, Mrs. Noble. I assure you. I'm not here to hurt you, your daughter, nor her son."

"You just insinuated you were hired by someone to kidnap my grandson," Chetna growled. "And here you are in my house sitting on my sofa."

"If you'll allow me to finish before you either stab me or call the cops, you'll see my motive for being here is different than you think," Shamrock said.

Chetna stayed Tamarin's hands from dialing 999 temporarily, but kept the fire poker ready to bear. "You have thirty seconds and if I do not like what I hear, I will pin you to the sofa and then call the police."

Shamrock's lips twisted upwards into a smile. She liked this woman.

* * *

 _Today, Oahu…._

Steve caught Chin's eye as he and Danny returned to the dining room. Chin's simple raised brow and worried creases by his eyes asked the question without a word spoken. Steve shook his head in the negative. An invisible burden lifted from his teammate's shoulders and Chin relinquished his chair to Danny so he could speak with Harrier.

"Sorry about that, Ma'am," Steve apologized, taking his standing position behind his partner.

" _No need, Commander. Half the agents are sickened by this case and I understand it's a sensitive spot for you and your team."_

"What's going on with these kids now? Where are they?" Danny asked. Steve recognized the protective fatherly instinct rising above the previous tension.

" _I'm not at liberty to say. What I can tell you is that they're with vetted and trusted foster parents who are capable of handling young dragons with behavioral issues."_

Steve nodded. Considering the circumstances, it was a good setup. The younger kids probably wouldn't be affected as badly as the older ones, like Basil and Lien. He could only hope they would survive without too much damage. He didn't have to imagine what having parents ripped away would do to someone. He'd lived it, even though he had been older than these kids when it had happened.

"Do you have any leads so far?" he asked.

" _We've tried connecting the buyers to each other, linking bank accounts, searching for witnesses to no avail. Whoever is at the center of this is covering their tracks well. All we can do is link the kids to Walker and that's it. We're–"_ Harrier paused, her image frozen onscreen and a second broken voice quietly speaking in the background. The pixels jarred back into life as she moved to check her computer.

"What's going on?" Danny questioned.

" _I just received news of another kid turning up."_

The hairs on Steve's arms stood up and he stiffened. That would be seven. Seven out of how many?

"Where did this one show up?" Chin asked.

" _Santa Barbara,"_ Harrier said, reading off her computer. " _According to the report, local police had just wrapped up a murder case when their Head Psychic located and brought in a young Arboreal dragon named Terrance, who had been in the custody of the man who had been murdered. I'm sending the file to you. This thing reads like a novel."_

"How old was this one?" Kono leaned in as Danny accessed his email again.

" _Nine."_

Steve jerked. "Nine?"

"That's way older than the others," Kono murmured.

"Are you sure he's connected to the operation?" Chin asked.

" _The psychic brought in papers linking him to bank statements and Walker's operations, just like the others. Our analysts are pouring over it now. He has to be from her early years of operation."_

Steve stared at the photo that popped up on the screen. The Arboreal was a lanky kid, reminding Steve of himself when he was that age. He was also glued to the side of a man wearing a look somewhere between cocky and saddened. The blurb under the photo named the man as Shawn Spencer, Head Psychic.

"Will you forward the information to us?" Steve asked. He didn't feel the need to demand the information, as they had worked well with the DRD since they'd busted the whole Breeding operation.

" _Keep us in the loop, Commander."_

"That's a two-way street, babe," Danny said.

" _I'm not in the habit of sharing information I'm not sure about, but you're getting it now, aren't you?"_ The image shuddered and crackled as she moved. " _Redd, what is this second file?"_

The answer was unintelligible to them, but judging by the way Harrier's hand dropped to her desk with a thump, it was important.

Danny flicked a hand between the screen and himself. "Hey. Two-way street, remember?"

" _How bad is that storm there, Commander?"_

Steve's brows furrowed. "Heavy rain and wind. Some roads are closed, but still navigable by truck. Why?"

" _Because Terrance came in with papers linking him to another kid, and there's an address."_

The racket and chaotic song of the storm raging outside began to call Steve's name. He'd survived worse weather as a SEAL. This was nothing. And if Harrier was saying what he thought she was saying, he'd gladly take the truck out. He'd shift and go by foot if he had to.

Danny's nails scratched the table. "Where is this address?"

" _On Oahu. I'm sending it to you now."_

* * *

The Silverado bounced over a branch, leaves and twigs scraping the windows and wing mirror on the passenger side. Startlingly, Danny didn't speak out against his partner's insane driving. He only gripped the bar above the door.

They were going into this situation with partial information, no plan, a lot of anger, and amazingly a warrant for once. These were rich people that could afford lawyers and having no warrant was too big of an opening for a lawyer to exploit to risk not having one. The judge's house had been on the way up here, anyway, and Duke was good friends with said judge. He hadn't had a moment's hesitation signing the thing once availed of the situation.

Chin ducked his head back in from the rolled down window, shaking rain from his hair. "This is it."

The hillside mansion was shrouded in curtains of rain. Glowing dots in the windows and lining the pathway gave a vague outline of an imposing place. Danny had always talked about storming the castle metaphorically, but this time it seemed as if they really were going to storm a castle.

"The front gates of Hotel Transylvania being open doesn't seem ominous to you guys, does it?" he asked as Steve drove the truck on through and up the driveway.

"Would you rather they be closed and I drive through them?" Steve asked.

Danny heaved a weary sigh and checked the clip in his gun. "No. It just gives me the impression something's going to go horribly wrong because they were expecting us or something."

"Chin, you go with Danny. Kono and I will circle around back," Steve said.

They jumped out of the truck into the pouring rain. They were instantly soaked through. Danny approached the grand front doors with Chin on his heels, shotgun at the ready. Warrant tucked safely in his pocket so he could shove it in their faces at the first opportunity, he gave it a few more seconds to allow the other two to get into position before he banged his fist on the solid door.

"Five-0! Open up!"

Danny had expected security cameras, maybe even guards, butlers, maids, anything really, to greet them as soon as they pulled up. The silence was unnerving. He banged again.

"Five-0!"

A resounding clap of thunder drown out everything for a moment. The rattling boom nearly eclipsed the piercing shriek from inside.

"Damn it," Danny hissed.

There was no way he and Chin could kick the door in. It was too well built. Instead, he trampled through the flowerbed to the side of the door and shifted the scales out on his arm, putting the other up to shield his face. He sent his fist through the glass window.

Glass crunched under his feet as he jumped in. Gun out front, he swept through the foyer steadily, trusting Chin to have his six.

"Five-0!"

There was another more muffled scream and a man yelling.

Danny led the way to his best guess of where all the noise was coming from. Seeing as this raid hadn't started off at the Palace where all their gear was, they only had what was available to them: their personal weapons and the simple tac vests in the lockbox of the Silverado. They lacked the radios they usually communicated with, and thus he had no clue where his partner and Kono were.

"Steve?" he called out as they edged around a wall.

It opened into a sunroom floored with gorgeous tiles and three walls full of floor to ceiling windows. Ambient lights in small alcoves lit the room in a soft amber glow, illuminating a decorative pond, plants, and chairs. A wet bar built from river stone sat to one side with an array of alcohol and mixers set into palely lit shelves behind it. French doors at the back of the room led to a rich and verdant backyard. Of course, it looked eerie rather than inviting with the orb shaped fairy lights shuddering in the violent winds and rains and everything cast in shifting shadows.

The exquisiteness of the room was largely ignored by Danny. His eyes immediately went toward the man standing in the threshold of the wide open French doors. The man with the gun pressed against a young Arboreal dragon's head.

Kono was crouched in the far right of the room, her knee pressing a thrashing woman to the floor and one hand trying to keep her gun leveled at the man while keeping the woman detained.

"Put the gun down, Müller!" she ordered.

Chin slipped around him, taking up a defensible position behind the stone bar counter to their left.

"You let my wife go right now!" The man roared. He was framed by the dancing lights outside, wind and rain blowing around him into the room, whipping his hair around his head into a furious halo.

Danny gritted his teeth. The man wasn't waving the gun around madly or barely holding onto the kid. He was using the kid as a proper shield and kept the gun leveled at his head. Maybe Danny could take the shot. The further the man backed onto the patio outside the harder it became. And he couldn't live with himself if he hit the kid.

"Hey, hey, calm down, buddy, just calm down, huh?" he said. He made a display of lowering his weapon.

The man turned wild eyes on him, swaying between the slick gray tiles in the sunroom and the burnt orange bricks of the patio. The kid squeaked, hindfeet scrabbling to touch the ground and tail twitching in terror. The man tightened his grip on the kid's snout, stilling the poor thing.

A magmatic heat flooded Danny's chest. It would be worth taking a bullet just to get the kid out of this guy's hands. But, the way the gun never left the kid's temple gave him pause. He'd do what he did best first. Then he'd go for Plan Z.

"Andreas Müller, right?" He fought to keep his voice calm, to keep the rising heat under control. "Andreas, let the kid go. He has nothing to do with this, it's not his fault. There's no reason this has to end in violence, okay?"

"It's all his fault!" Andreas shouted. "We were fine. Everything was fine! And then…."

And then Five-0 busted the Breeding operation. They had taken down Marilyn's employees. It was the buyers that had eluded them. Now the buyers of the kids off the ships were disappearing one by one, their kids turning up in DRD custody. Had this guy been tipped off somehow? Was that why the place was empty?

"Hey, hey, look at me," Danny said, drawing his attention off the kid. Once he had Andreas' eyes on him, he continued, "There'll be a good deal for you if you let the kid go and come quietly."

Andreas shook his head. "We're going to run. We're going to disappear and you'll never hear from us again. And if you don't let my wife go, I will kill this brat no matter how much money he cost me. He's not worth the trouble anymore."

The sheer decided and vicious nature of Andreas' tone brooked no room for discussion. Someone was leaving in a body bag, and Danny prayed it wasn't one of them or the kid.

The fairy lights continued to swing erratically outside, shining on plants and patio furniture and whatever else was out there lurking in the unseen. He made a decision. Taking a deep breath, he gestured toward Kono. "Let her go."

Looking a bit baffled, Kono hauled the woman to her feet.

The woman jerked her arm free and stumbled towards her husband. When she was near enough to him, Danny realized he may have made a mistake in letting her go. The cold realization hit him. Andreas didn't want the kid anymore.

"Don't do it!" he warned.

Andreas started to pull the trigger. Claws sprang from Danny's fingers. Chin and Kono yelled as he lunged forward.

Then, from the darkness outside, hooked claws wrapped around Andreas' head and gun hand. His scream cut off abruptly as he was ripped into the storm.

Danny dropped to his knees by the kid, panting and heart pounding from the near miss. "You okay? Hey, are you okay?"

The kid was shaking like a leaf, tears streaming from his eyes.

"It's okay, buddy, you're okay, now." Danny wrapped his arms around the lanky form, glad when the kid clung to him instead of flinching away.

He was the spitting image of Terrance, the kid from Santa Barbara. So much so that it struck him why the first one had come in with another address. This had to be his twin. Bought by brothers Andreas and Karl Müller, separated at birth, living an ocean apart. The realization made him hold on to the kid tighter, whether for the kid's sake or for his, he couldn't really tell.

The kid made a soft gasp.

Danny inclined his head up at the monstrous head dripping wet with rain. The pearly white fangs jutting out from the upper lip and the sheer height were terrifying enough, never mind the rest of the body as the beast trudged through the doorway.

"Is he okay?" Steve asked, voice caught somewhere between a growl and concern.

"Physically, he's fine. Mentally?" He let the unfortunate truth hang there. The kid would probably never outgrow this incident.

Steve turned his head toward the visibly mortified woman as Kono approached with her cuffs in hand. "Book 'em, Kono."

"And here I thought that was a term of endearment you only used with me. I'm hurt," Danny said. He stood up with the kid still in his arms, but the kid's focus was all on Steve in all his shifted glory.

"I'd tell you to book Andreas, but…." Steve glanced over his shoulder into the backyard.

Danny nodded. Someone was leaving in a body bag. There probably wasn't a pretty sight waiting out there for the crime scene guys when they arrived. He didn't see any blood on his partner, though, and concluded he'd used a subtler disposal method than a primal swipe of the claws.

"Took you long enough," he muttered.

"I had to deal with the driver and the bodyguard in the car outback," Steve grumbled.

"S-S-Sir, are you a dragon, too?" the kid asked quietly.

Steve grinned. With all those teeth it was a bit of a scary grin. "I am. Same kind of dragon as you."

"Really?" The kid perked up, tail showing a bit a life with the start of an excited lashing. "Will I get as big as you?"

"Maybe someday," Steve said. "What's your name?"

"Talon, Sir."

Danny huffed as his phone rang. He took one glance at the name on the screen, frowned, and set Talon down by Steve. He was still shaking terribly, but seemed more than willing to talk to another dragon. Perhaps the first one he'd ever seen besides his reflection in a mirror.

"Duke said he's got a unit coming up here with EMS," Chin reported to their boss.

Leaving his team to it, he walked down a quiet hallway to answer. "Tamarin?"

" _Danny, Danny! Danny, thank goodness you're okay. Oh, sweetheart, this woman came by and I was so terrified. She knew things, Danny, she knew things and she–"_

"Woah, woah, slow down, babe, slow down," he urged.

" _Sorry. Sorry. I'm just really shaken up right now. I can't – I can't string two sentences together."_

"Start from the beginning. Who was this woman?"

" _She said she was a friend of yours. Her name was…Mum, what'd she say her name was?"_

His brows knitted together. A friend of his? In London?

" _She said her name was Shauna McCarthy. Danny, she knew the most terrible things. She knew about the ships and the babies and – and – and she said she'd been hired to find – to find my baby – my baby Danny–"_

Shauna McCarthy? Why did that name sound familiar? He'd bumped into Interpol a few times back in Jersey, but he didn't think he had any friends in Interpol.

"Tamarin. Calm down, okay? What did she say?"

He heard a deep breath on the other end and then a shuffling.

A new voice came on the phone. " _Danny? This is Chetna. Tam, go lay down, okay? I'll tell him."_

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. This was turning out to be one hell of a night. "Can you please explain to me what happened?"

" _This woman came here. She told us she had been hired by some people to find my grandson. They had apparently purchased him from that bloody cow Walker. Your team took her down before they could get their filthy hands on him, but they hired this woman to find him."_

His breath hitched. "Are you okay? Is the baby okay?"

" _We are fine. But this woman, Danny, this woman knew all sorts of things. She told us that she had made sure the people would never find Tamarin, that we didn't have to worry about them. She said she was making sure to cut the head off the beast."_

He stilled. An icy chill swept through him. That phrasing was familiar. "Chetna, did she say that exactly? The part about cutting the head off the beast?"

" _Yes. Or something close to that. Do you know this Shauna McCarthy, or was that a lie she told me to get in the door? She seemed to know about you."_

This was too surreal. And yet…. "What did she look like? Describe her."

" _Not too tall. Freckles. Red hair. Irish accent. Do you know her?"_

He braced himself against the wall and exhaled slowly. "Yeah. I know her."

" _Is Tam safe? My husband wants to call the police, but Tam insisted we call you first."_

He knew he remembered Shauna McCarthy from somewhere. "You guys are probably fine, okay? If Sham…Shauna said you didn't have anything to worry about, you guys don't have anything to worry about. But, call me right away if she shows up again, huh? Day or night, it doesn't matter."

" _You sound as if she isn't your friend. But do you want to know what I think?"_

"Hmm?"

" _She deserves a medal for what she's done."_

He spoke with her a little more, and then bade her goodbye and hung up. Taking a few composing breaths, he met with his team in the foyer where red and blue lights in the driveway could be made out through the windows. The cavalry had arrived.

"What's wrong, brah?" Kono asked.

Danny swirled a hand around in the air above his head. "You those moments where everything comes together suddenly and everything makes sense? I just had one of those."

* * *

 _Today, London…._

Shamrock set aside her porcelain cup of jasmine tea as a phone rang in Joey's pocket. He held it out to her.

"I told you he would call," Achutebe said in his deep and resonant voice.

Joey forked over twenty dollars.

"Gambling while working? You've become too comfortable around me," Shamrock said evenly. She put the phone to her ear. "Evening, Detective."

" _And what an evening it's been. But, I'm guessing that since you're in London, it's midmorning there."_

"I travel. What makes you think I'm in London?" she asked. She nodded to their host as he replaced their teapot with a fresh one.

" _Oh, I don't know. May have something to do with the panicked phone call I received from Tamarin about a Shauna McCarthy stopping by to inform her that she doesn't have to worry about anyone looking for her or her son. Ring a bell?"_

"Sounds like a fascinating incident," she said. Her long fingers fluttered around the rim of the delicately painted cup, her rings glinting in the lighting reflected from the deep reds and golds of the tapestries on the walls. "Does she wish to press charges? I can recommend a few lawyers."

There was a brief pause where she imagined he was flapping a hand around in irritation.

" _No. I think Chetna is ready to throw you a parade."_

She smirked. "Then why did you call me, Danny?"

" _You're the reason why these kids off the ships are popping up, aren't you? You found a way of tracking down the buyers."_

Their host returned and, bowing, handed Shamrock a slip of paper. She tilted her head to the side as she read the foreign chicken scratch. "I would say accomplishing a feat like that would be a very hard endeavor."

" _But not impossible for someone who doesn't have to worry about red tape and pesky little things like laws, right?"_

"I suppose it could offer some shortcuts, yes," she said. She passed the paper to Achutebe.

" _It's always so around the bush with you. Why don't you just turn over the names to Five-0 or the DRD, huh? Turn in the little black book or whatever the hell you managed to get your hands on, and no one would even have to know it came from you."_

"You said it yourself, Detective. The red tape was designed specifically to protect people like this. Money buys judges, cops, lawyers, mercenaries," she said. She finished off her tea and picked up the pen next to the ledger sitting in front of her. "These people are more afraid of what lurks in the shadows with them than the authorities outside."

" _So, are you one of those shadows? One of the powers moving in the shadows? The fire in Denver? The couple missing in the Everglades? The mysterious one-way trip to Mexico? All you?"_

She flicked through the well studied pages of the ledger. "You really have hyped me up to mythical proportions."

There was a sigh.

" _You're never going to give me a straight answer, are you?"_

"I'm afraid not, Detective," she said. She circled a name in the ledger and turned it around for her two bodyguards to see. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some heads to chop off a beast."

* * *

 **"Dragons" will return July 16th with old characters, new characters, further world building, possibly a road trip, and hopefully a crossover or two and an episode rewrite.**

 **I'm taking a three week hiatus this summer to catch up on writing, reading, traveling, etc. Also hoping the break will let me come back refreshed with new content for you guys.**

 **As always, please suggest anything you'd like to see. Any questions you have. Ideas. Thoughts. Whatever.**

 **Also, keep an eye out for a new mini-series I'll be posting in the meantime. It's not super long and is only to pass the time and appease the muse.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! Hope you all have a fun and safe summer!**


	116. Fact 101

**Well that was a short three weeks. And now we return to our regular programming.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #101: Scales come in a variety.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 4**

Steve shook his head. The storm last night had made everything a mess. Not as bad as when a hurricane actually made landfall, but bad enough. He was one part anxious to get back over to his place to see how it had faired and one part dreading it. He just hoped the sandbags had held and nothing too ginormous had fallen on the roof.

"'It's only a little wind, Danny, it'll be fine,' he said," Danny grumbled as he stood by his side, observing his backyard. He flicked a hand out at it. "Does this look like a little wind, Steven? Huh?"

Steve shrugged. "It could've been worse."

"Yeah. Maybe my house could've blown away and we all wound up in the Land of Oz," he said.

"And then you'd be the Cowardly Lion."

"And you'd be the Heartless Tinman. Or the Brainless Scarecrow."

"And then I'll be Dorothy," Grace piped up, carefully stepping onto the back patio with them. "I even have a dog, but he's not little or black."

Steve grinned at her and ruffled her hair. "How'd you sleep?"

Grace made an 'eh' motion with her hand, very reminiscent of her father. "The wind was blowing and it was thundering, and I got to bed late."

Danny slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to his side. They hadn't gotten in until well after midnight, having conducted the raid and then coordinated with Duke to get the scene secure and make sure Talon had somewhere safe to go.

Steve had been seconds away from telling them he would just take Talon back to Danny's house with them, but then Harrier had called. She'd taken the time in between to arrange for a DRD agent and a NCIS agent to pick him up. According to her, he was in good hands and would be placed with one of their foster families until they had figured out what to do with him and the rest of the kids that were popping up.

"How about we eat breakfast and then get these branches out of the yard?" Steve suggested.

"Danno can make pancakes," Grace volunteered, running back inside before Danny could protest making pancakes for five people.

After breakfast, they filtered out into the backyard, discussing how to best clean up the branches. The clouds were dark overhead and an ominous breeze rustled the foliage. They decided to simply stack the branches in a pile since there was a good chance of the storm knocking more down before it finally departed the island and they'd probably need to load them in the bed of Steve's truck. Better to make one trip to haul them away than two.

Steve chose to forego the gloves and instead shifted the scales out on his forearms and hands. Hooked climbing claws made getting a grip on some of the soaked branches easier.

"Brah, you need a manicure."

He glanced up from the sizable branch he was currently moving, thinking Kono was talking to him. She was talking to Danny instead.

"What, you don't like these freakishly long claws?" Danny asked, waggling the thick claws on his fingers. They were a fraction of the size they usually were when he was fully shifted. Steve should know. He'd been smacked by those claws before.

"I'm just saying, you're going to poke an eye out with those someday," Kono said.

"Probably mine," Steve added.

"And it will only because you've done something stupid."

Steve smirked.

As they worked, he watched his teammates closely. Kono and Chin worked as a pair. It was almost always that way. Kono had her amber and tawny scales out, shielding her hands from the splinters. Chin's scale colors were in the same family with his warm bronze and darker coffee markings like his cousin. Hers were thin and round, his thicker and angular.

Steve looked at his own hands. The start of webbing was sprouting between his fingers, near the base where they connected to the hand. Barely noticeable in this partially shifted state. The mottled teals and deep blues were on the back of his hands, fading to a paler color on his palms. While his scales were smooth and round like Kono's, they were thicker. He wasn't sure if that was from the Arboreal genes or the Serpent.

Wandering over with the intent to help his partner heft up one of the bigger limbs that had broken off the neighbor's tree and squashed one of the flowerbeds in Danny's yard, he took a moment to really look at the scales, not on his partner's hands, but on his daughter's hands.

Grace was picking up the smaller, more manageable sticks, following their lead in using her scales to keep her from getting stabbed or full of splinters. Whereas her father's scales were diamond shaped and dense enough to the point of being nigh bulletproof, hers were softer looking. Still diamond shaped, but with rounded tips. Auburn with speckles of gold throughout, Steve wondered what she would have looked like as a full blooded dragon. Would she have been prominently Cliff, like Danny? Or more mixed, depending on Rachel's imagined lineage?

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to stare?"

He narrowed his eyes at Danny. "I was only admiring how well Grace keeps up with her scales, unlike her father."

"Hey, hey." Danny dropped the end of the branch he had been lifting, one set of claws tapping himself on the chest and the other flinging out. "You see these? These are clean and well maintained. Just because they don't glimmer and gleam like my beautiful Monkey's doesn't mean I don't take care of them. I'm just not one of those guys who obsessively polishes his claws and scales like Eric."

His brow furrowed and Chin chuckled behind him.

"Eric polishes his claws?" Chin asked.

"Oh yeah." Grace nodded. "Big time. You can see yourself in them. I don't even do anything to my scales."

"But they're so shiny, sista," Kono said.

"My ma's part Serpent, remember? Bridget always has extremely shiny scales, no matter what," Danny explained.

Steve glanced at his hands again. Apparently, he hadn't gotten that part passed down to him. Sure, his scales shimmered when they were wet, but they were more like snakeskin when dry. Kono's had a more amphibious or fish scale quality with the way they reflected light. Chin's had a duller shine like Danny's.

"Guess you win prettiest scales, Gracie," he said.

Grace pumped a fist. "Awesome. But what about Eric?"

"The Oreo Oddball isn't here at the moment, so he doesn't count," Danny said and waved him off dismissively.

Steve perked up. "Oreo Oddball?"

Danny cracked a smile. "He's got a white stripe down his sides."

"Your nephew has racing stripes?"

"No, no, don't. Don't encourage him. They don't make him go faster, no matter what he says."

Steve snorted. Next time he saw Eric, he'd have to get a look at these racing stripes himself.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Steve and Danny get called to another rescue out in the jungle. A 911 call that mentions a big, bright pink dragon definitely won't turn out weird.**

 **Hey y'all. I'm toying with some things for this upcoming season of "Dragons". Hopefully I don't shoot myself in the foot trying to do something crazy (or get another long running plot going too soon). Also, hope you guys enjoy it!**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	117. Fact 102

**This one got away from me...**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #102: Eyewitnesses are notoriously unreliable.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 4**

"Yeah, I'll be over there in fifteen, twenty minutes. Okay. Bye, Cath."

Danny glanced over at his partner as Steve ended his call. "Sounds like Fort McGarrett held up, huh?"

"The worst of it was supposed to be last night. I'm hoping it holds through tonight and then the storm should taper off," Steve said.

Danny nodded. He hoped no branches fell in a last ditch effort to land on the Camaro. One sizeable limb had been perilously close to the rear bumper this morning.

Debris littered the streets, everything from foliage blown off the trees and out of yards to toys mistakenly left outside to garbage that had been whisked away from the nooks and crannies by the high winds. Steve had to edge his truck around a piece of nail studded tin that must have been torn from a roof somewhere.

They'd left the others back at the house. Kono had mentioned about going and seeing if Brooklyn needed help moving branches while Chin had said he was going to swing by his place and his cousin's to see if they were still standing. Danny had offered for Grace to come with him and Steve, but she volunteered to go with Kono. The girl loved her auntie.

Steve's phone rang. He answered quickly and put it on speaker. "McGarrett."

" _Steve, it's Duke."_

"Hey, Duke. Is HPD still swamped?" Steve asked.

Danny would imagine so. People without real emergencies always clogged the switchboard during a natural disaster, pushing people with real ones out of the way.

" _It's a nightmare. I'm only glad the storm didn't actually make landfall."_

"If this is what it's like when the island only gets sideswiped, then I agree one hundred percent with you," Danny said, waving a hand absently at the destruction passing by the windows.

"What do you have for us?"

There was a brief pause on the other end. " _I'm not exactly sure, Commander. The 911 operators received a call from a hiker about an incident."_

"Someone's out hiking in this?" Danny questioned. He tilted his head to peer up at the dark storm clouds beginning to roil overhead again, threatening a repeat of yesterday's performance.

" _It takes more than some wind and rain to scare native islanders, Detective. The caller was up around Maunawili Falls when he called in."_

"That's not too far from here," Steve said and looked over at Danny.

Danny sighed and combed his fingers through his hair. He was tired both mentally and physically. Going on yet another rescue didn't sound great, but he was the one who signed up to be a cop.

"You got more for us than a location? What're we going to be walking into? And why couldn't the normal rescue workers and paramedics handle this one?" he asked.

" _Normally, we would've sent first responders up there, but due to the nature of the call, I felt it was better to send Five-0 up there first."_

His gut sank. They only turned to Five-0 for the super dangerous or the super weird things.

"Give us the details. I'm turning onto Highway 61 heading west now," Steve said.

" _The call came in at 11:23 this morning from a hiker near the falls. He said no one was up there and there were no other cars at the trailhead."_

"Can't imagine why. That place is probably a muddy disaster after all this rain," Danny said.

" _He said as he was coming back down, he thought he heard voices arguing further up on the trail, but he hadn't run into anyone up at the falls. He stopped and listened, and when he finally figured out where the voices were coming from, he saw a huge bright pink dragon shove a guy off a cliff."_

Danny wasn't sure where to start. "He wouldn't have happened to have smoked a little weed while he was up there, right?"

" _Your guess is as good as mine, Detective. I have paramedics waiting just in case, but if this guy was telling the truth, then the scene needs to be secured before we send in EMS or a CSU."_

"Is the caller still up there?" Steve asked.

" _In his own words, he was getting the hell out of dodge and fled the scene."_

"Terrific," Danny muttered.

The Silverado crunched over a branch hidden in a pile of leaves that had been flung onto the deserted highway. Seeing the normally busy highway devoid of vehicles was an eerie sight. It reminded Danny of a post-apocalyptic movie. All they needed was for a pack of zombies to rush the truck.

With no traffic, they made it across the highway onto Auloa Road without incident. And the closer they drew to the trailhead, the muddier it became, so much so to the point Danny couldn't remember if the road had been dirt to begin with or if mud had flooded over the pavement. Steve kept the tires in what were presumably the caller's ruts.

"Steve, if I die in a mudslide up here, I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your life," he griped as the truck fishtailed.

Steve calmly fought with the steering wheel, his jaw set. "Danny, if you die in a mudslide, I'll probably die in it, too."

"Oh, fantastic. Then you can still bug me in whatever afterlife there is."

"Or, you could just shut up and let me concentrate."

Danny gritted his teeth. The Silverado protested the lack of traction in some places, but pushed through like a trooper. Finally, they made it to the trailhead. With a bit of reluctance, he followed his partner's lead and climbed out of the cab, glad that he was in sneakers and not his loafers.

"This is probably the last day these shoes have on this earth, isn't it?" he asked as he squelched to the bed of the truck.

Steve didn't answer.

Tac vest? Check. Gun and extra clip? Check. Backup weapon? Check. Cell phone with shockproof, waterproof case? Check. Backpack full of supplies? Check. One Navy SEAL to guide him through the jungle? Check.

"Okay, Rambo, where do you think this cliff is that this guy supposedly saw a dragon push someone over?" he asked as they plunged into the dripping wet jungle.

Steve hiked the straps up on his backpack. "If he was coming down and the voices were higher up the trail than him, I'd say it was about halfway or two thirds of the way between here and the falls."

Danny swiped his hand across the back of his neck. "This should be fun. I've always wanted to go hiking up a ridiculously dangerous, muddy trail when the air is so humid it might as well be soup and, wait, you hear that? That's thunder. We are definitely going to die up here."

"It's not that bad," Steve said.

Danny huffed under his breath. "It's not that bad, he says. It's perfectly normal to go on a stroll through sludge in the jungle with a possible violent dragon on the loose. Nothing to worry about. Nope."

He heard Steve heave a sigh and saw the eyeroll despite only having a view of the back of his partner's head.

"Don't make that face at me."

"Huh?" Steve shot him a quick peek over his shoulder before facing the barely navigable trail again.

Danny picked his way over a particularly deep puddle, using a tangle of roots to steady himself. "You just made the Why-Isn't-The-Rest-Of-My-Team-Immortal-Like-Me Face."

Steve gave him a look that was part consternated and part amused. "That's a specific name. Have you named every expression I make?"

"Babe, you have no idea."

* * *

Danny lost track of how long it had been since they had started. It couldn't have been more than an hour tops. It probably would have been more if ten minutes into their trek Steve hadn't decide this terrain was more suited for a dragon. Danny himself hadn't shifted, because a) his scales didn't blend into the surrounding's like Steve's, b) he didn't want to shred these clothes nor get undressed in the middle of the mosquito infested woods, and c) he didn't want a rumor about a Cliff dragon on the island spreading if there really were people up here.

Sure, Steve gave him grief about it. He stood firm with his decision. Instead, he sat perched low on his partner's shoulders and took the semi-easy route up the muddy trail.

"One of these days, Danno, you're going to have to get over your fear of shifting," Steve said, emerging from a clump of undergrowth where he'd redressed.

This was an open area higher on the trail. It had a sweeping overlook of the jungle below as well as some cliffy looking areas, which was why they had stopped.

"I don't have a fear of shifting. It's a completely rational fear of what kind of people come out of the woodwork when word of a rare dragon gets around," he said and let his hands emphasize his point.

Steve grasped his shoulder. "I know, buddy."

After the latest case with Talon the night before, all those memories had resurfaced, memories he'd spent the last year trying to repress. The tight, dark container, the metal band around his snout, Marilyn's pleased voice upon finding out he was a Cliff. Though, he knew in the logical part of his brain, he would've been taken if he had been a Cliff or a Drake. The only part that mattered was that he was a full blooded dragon.

Still, it had reawakened his cautious and reluctant nature.

"So," he shook off the remnants of those tumultuous emotions, "where do you think this guy is?"

Steve scrubbed a hand through his hair. He looked around at where they had come from and then where the trail led. "If the caller was on the trail and saw someone get pushed off, then I'd guess it would've been around that area over there."

They walked through the grassy meadow toward where the gently inclined hill sloped steeply away. While the grass had kept this area from turning into a mudhole, it was soggy. Every step pushed up water. Danny kept well away from the edge. Gravity was often faster than reflexes and would break bones before he could shift if he fell.

Chancing a glance at the cliffs that stepped down to the valley below, he made a face. "You know, one of my cousins is a game warden in Maine, and he said a lot of their search and rescue missions turn into recoveries."

"You'd be surprised what people have survived," Steve said. He was far braver and stepped close to the edge, scanning the ground below for any signs of their supposed victim.

"Oh, I know. My cousin told me this story of a man who was missing for two weeks in part of the Appalachians in the fall when it was beginning to snow and freeze at night. Most of the teams had come to the conclusion it was going to be a slim chance of rescue or recovery, but they kept looking. Then, they got a call from some hunters that a hypothermic man had wandered into their camp. The poor schmuck apparently survived by eating sprigs of whatever and a squirrel he conked over the head with a branch, and kept warm by sleeping under pine needles."

Steve cracked a smirk. "You should hear about the time Abe–"

Danny pulled his attention from where he was carefully placing his feet toward Steve when he cut off midsentence.

"What is it?" he asked.

Steve crouched. He gestured at the furrows in the grass near this part of the edge. "Something big definitely came through here."

"Big as in an unusually tall man or big as in a bright pink dragon?" He quirked a brow.

"Dunno what color it was, but it looks like something dragon sized trampled some of the grass through here. And there's a backpack over there. Might be our victim's."

"Great." Danny's hand went to his holstered weapon as he scanned the surrounding jungle and open meadow. "We should probably call for backup before this turns into another tango with a mutant Wyvern monster thing, huh?"

"Shh. You hear that?"

"What?"

"That."

Danny fell silent. He cocked his head to the side, filtering out the insect and birdsong all around them as well as the breeze rustling the foliage and whistling below the cliffs. The indistinct drone of some unidentified insects gave way to what Steve must have heard. Voices.

Together, guns drawn but lowered, they crept further up the incline and closer to the crumbling edge. The closer they got to a particularly squashed patch of grass, the more Danny was able to make out some of what was being said.

"…if you tell me one more time that talking in third person makes it better…."

He shared a mildly confused look with Steve. He took a deep breath and peered over the edge. Not exactly sure what he was expecting, it was a breath of relief when he didn't spot any mutilated corpses or wind up with a mouth full of teeth bearing down on him.

Perched on a moderate shelf halfway down the cliff face were two men. Humans. No sign of a bright pink dragon.

Steve whistled. "Hey!"

The two of them looked up.

"You guys need help?" Danny asked.

The one who wasn't on his lying down rocked back on his haunches and the one who looked more injured shouted up, "Nah. I think we'd like to stay here a little longer, see if a mudslide buries us. Add that to my litany of experiences."

"Dude, chill out," the upright man snapped at the other. He looked up. "Sorry about him, he gets into a mood when he's in pain. We'd seriously appreciate the help."

"I'll update Duke," Steve said, pulling his cell out and backing away from the edge.

Danny couldn't make out exactly what had happened, nor how injured either of the men were. "You guys wouldn't have happened to have gotten into this predicament due to a bright pink dragon, would you?"

The two glanced at each other with expressions that Danny was too far away to discern.

"No?"

"That was convincing," Danny said to himself. He waved a hand at their location. "How'd all this happen?"

"It started with us not wanting hotel coffee," the upright man said.

He frowned, trying to bridge the gap between coffee and winding up stuck on a shelf on a cliff in the middle of the jungle during a tropical storm.

Steve interrupted his contemplating when he approached the edge and tucked his gun away.

"What do you think you're doing?" Danny questioned. He recognized the posture and the look in his eyes.

"I'm going down there. See if they both need to be loaded by basket."

"Of course you are."

"You coming?"

"Nope."

* * *

It wasn't his cleanest descent down a cliff face. Literally. He had mud smeared on his chest, forearms, and knees with a dashing streak across his face. With some fancy claw work, he'd been able to slide down the not quite ninety degree slope. Climbing back up would be a challenge. He'd probably have to be in full dragon form instead of just using his claws.

The shelf was only seven feet long and jutted four feet out from the side. Not as narrow as some of the places Steve had gotten himself stuck on, but it didn't allow for many people or a whole lot of maneuvering.

"Commander McGarrett, Five-0 Taskforce," he greeted as he crouched next to them. "A chopper's on its way."

"Thanks, man. I was running out of ideas of how to keep him distracted," the upright man said. "I'm Graham. Graham Koenig. This is my buddy Luke Marshal."

"But I should change my name to Murphy, because that's the law that seems to apply to me the most," Luke said.

Steve cracked a grin. That was Five-0's law, too. Danny had reminded him of that fact many times. He sobered as he quickly analyzed the situation.

Luke was on his back with a folded hoodie under his head and a backpack under his feet. His dark and silver ticked hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, blue eyes squinted in obvious pain, his breathing rapid and shallow.

"How long have you guys been out here?" he asked.

Graham ran a hand through his mud streaked, caramel colored hair and then down over his short beard. "We had a friend drop us off two or three hours ago, but we've been stuck on this ledge for, what, forty minutes?"

Luke groaned and flopped his head back. "Feels like it's been forever, man."

Steve glanced at Graham's right hand that was hanging and trembling in an odd way. Then he noticed something interesting. While Luke was caked with mud like what would have happened in a tumble from the top, Graham's clothes were devoid of it, save for the knees where he was crouching.

"How'd you know we were up here?" Luke asked.

"Another hiker further down the trail called it in," he said.

Graham's brows scrunched. "We didn't see another hiker."

"He reported a dragon shoving someone off a cliff and then he fled the scene out of fear," he said, watching their expressions carefully.

Luke huffed a small, muted chuckle and Graham rolled his eyes. Steve nodded. He had a vague idea of what had happened.

"That was me, man," Graham said. He displayed a patch of unmistakably fuchsia scales on his forearm, smooth and rounded like a Serpent's. "But I didn't push him off. Not that I haven't thought about pushing him off a cliff, but I didn't. He slipped and I dove over."

"But he took the time to undress first," Luke said.

Graham slapped his good hand on his jeans. "I like these pants."

"What'd you do to your wrist?" Steve asked.

Graham winced and Luke scrubbed a hand over his face before answering, "The moron overshot and went sliding way past this little overhang."

"Think I twisted it weird when I caught myself," Graham added.

Luke narrowed his eyes at him. "Well, it might've been fine, but then you shifted back. You see this? He even brought his clothes with him over the edge to change into."

" _Número_ _uno_ , I wasn't gonna fit on this ledge in full beast mode, and _número_ _dos_ , I didn't think you'd want my junk hanging out this close to you," Graham said.

"Oh my god." Luke covered his face with a grimace of pain. "Pardon my crass friend, Commander."

"Don't let him fool you. He's not as modest as he's wanting you to think," Graham said and nudged Luke's leg.

Steve shifted on his feet, getting a slight feeling of déjà vu of him and Danny being in a situation like this. He turned his attention toward Luke again. He was the worse off of the two, but what was wrong wasn't immediately obvious.

"How're you feeling?" he asked. If it had been Danny, he would've poked and prodded feeling for broken bones. As it was, trained medical personnel were on their way and there wasn't much he could do for internal injuries.

Luke exhaled slowly. "All things considered? Not as bad as I have been before."

Steve raised a brow. If he had to guess just by judging appearances, he would've put Luke in some kind of tech based line of work and Graham as an owner of a micro-brewery or something. What did Kono say that look was called? Hipster? They had a vague hipster vibe to them. Not quite all the way there, but a hint of it.

"What do you guys do for work?" he asked.

"I teach part-time. Physics, mechanics, that kind of stuff," Graham said. He sat back on his butt, draping his arms over his knees. "But my wife's a genius. She makes me look like an imbecile."

"You make yourself look like an imbecile," Luke said flatly.

Graham shrugged at the remark. "Her family wanted her to marry a doctor or lawyer or something, not a dork like me."

Teacher. Steve could see that. It was Luke he was more interested in with his statement of having been hurt worse than this before. He wasn't in any military branch, Steve could tell that much. He had a sixth sense of knowing when he was around a member of the military, and it wasn't tingling in this instance. Cop? Maybe. What other dangerous lines of work were there? With his smaller build he couldn't see him being a fireman or anything.

"I can see the confusion in your eyes. I'm a researcher," Luke said. "Mostly botany, but I dabble with various branches of zoology."

"And you've encountered man eating plants that have tried to kill you before?" he asked. Researcher wasn't a position that sprang to mind when discussing dangerous professions.

"I don't research indoors on a computer or whatever. We travel," Luke explained, flicking his fingers between himself and Graham. "You ever been to the deep Amazon?"

"No. I served mostly in the Middle East," he said. Of course, he'd been a lot of places on black ops, but the deep Amazon was not one of them.

"Well, we've been there," Luke said. His hand inched down to his thigh. "Got bit by a mystery animal right here. That hurt."

"Got whacked by an Arapaima. That cracked a rib on me."

"Got caught up in a piranha feeding frenzy. That one actually wasn't as bad as it sounds."

"Don't forget the Mud Pipers," Graham said with a shudder.

Luke flinched and nodded. "That was a bad month."

"Then there was the angry shoelace," Graham added.

"An Amazonian Tree Whip snake?" Steve asked.

Both of the men looked surprised.

"Yeah. How'd you even know what that is? You never find them outside of the Amazon Basin and southeastern parts of Thailand, Malaysia, maybe Cambodia, and Indonesia." Luke pushed his matted hair back from his face and licked his lips. "Don't tell me you found one here."

Steve pointed upwards. "Detective Williams up there got bit by one last year. It was a juvenile, but it nearly killed him."

Luke whistled. "The kids are the nasty ones. Graham got bit by a freshly hatched one. I'm not exactly sure, but I don't think its venom had reached full potency yet with it being so newly out of the egg."

"Kinda weird to find one in Hawaii, though," Graham said.

"We've had issues with animal smugglers," Steve said. "He got bit by a Gehenna Wasp, too, a couple years ago."

Luke laughed and then groaned, throwing his arm over his chest. Graham squeezed his leg reassuringly.

"Your partner sounds like he has our luck," Graham said. "Gehenna Wasps suck."

"So do cracked ribs," Luke hissed. "But not as bad as getting shot."

"Definitely not as bad as that time," Graham agreed.

"Shot?" Steve echoed. He was starting to get a feel for what kind of travel these guys did, and it wasn't the sitting in a hammock on a beach with a cocktail kind of travel.

The answer was cut off as the thump-thump of a chopper steadily approached over the tree line.

"The chopper's going to take you to King's Medical Center," Steve said.

"We need a collector's book so that every hospital we go to can stamp it. We'll have quite the collection by the time we inevitably die," Graham said.

The wind buffeted them as the chopper got into place up above. Steve helped the single medic that descended on a wire to get Luke into the basket and then to get Graham hooked into the harness. By the way the two seemed to know what was going on, there was a high chance they may have been loaded into a chopper before.

The pilot tipped a two finger salute at him and peeled off southward.

As the drone of the blades whipping the air died away, he was left with the breeze in the trees and the deep throated rumble of thunder coming from behind like an ominous beast riding a storm surge.

"You coming or do you want to stick around and get struck by lightning?" Danny shouted down at him.

He grinned and pulled his shirt over his head. It had been a while since he'd done a challenging climb.

* * *

"Why are we stopping by the hospital when a call would have sufficed?" Danny asked as they entered the rather crowded waiting room. "I'm starving. We completely skipped lunch."

"Don't worry, Danno, we won't be here long. I just want to make sure they get their backpack back," Steve said, jostling the black pack by the shoulder strap in his hand.

Though medical personnel weren't allowed to give out updates or room numbers to nonfamily members, Kori the nurse knew who they were and had heard about the situation. She quietly slipped them a room number. Not many people wanted to say no to Five-0, either.

"You should have heard these guys, bud. They sounded like us," Steve said as they took the elevator up.

"What do you mean?" Danny asked. He hooked his thumbs in his jean pockets and leaned against the wall.

"They argue like an old married couple."

Danny tiredly waved a hand at himself. "I'm taking offense at the old part, because I resigned myself long ago to the fact that we're an old married couple, probably right down to the whole 'til death do we part' bit."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Why are you so convinced I'm going to get you killed?"

"Because you do things like take a hike in the middle of the jungle on an already muddy trail during a tropical storm. Or, you fall and bust your arm and make me have to climb partway down a rock face without any safety equipment to untangle a rope so you can one-handedly monkey yourself back up to the top."

Steve stepped off the elevator as soon as the doors opened. "You know that I usually know what I'm doing, right?"

"No, I don't know that. Sometimes your plans are so off the cuff that there's no way you thought them through."

"I'm a Navy SEAL, Danny. That's what we're trained to do. We come up with several plans and the dangers associated with each one, and pick the one with the least amount of risk and the highest chance of success."

"But it's happening at warp speed? How do you even think that fast, huh?"

"How do you shift as fast as you do?"

"Touché."

Steve rapped his knuckles on the partially open door that they had arrived at.

"Commander? Come on in."

He pushed open the door and walked into the room. Graham was sitting in a chair next to the bed Luke was in, coffee in one hand and a brace on the other. Luke looked much better. Not as pale or sweaty.

"Found this at the top of the cliff." Steve held up the backpack.

Graham's eyes widened. "I thought I was going to have to go back up there and get it. Thanks for grabbing it."

Steve set it by the chair. Graham dug into one of the small zippers on the front and pulled a ring out of it. He worked it onto his left ring finger.

"Your wife would've killed you if you lost your ring again," Luke said with a crooked grin. He looked up at Steve and Danny and held up the silver band he had been fidgeting with. "My wife Morgan had this engraved, and so I cannot lose it. Not if I ever want to sleep in the same bed as her again."

"I think Sato is going to give up at some point and just make me wear one of those rubber rings," Graham said. He held out his left hand for an awkward handshake. "Thanks, again, for showing up when you did. I was getting ready to attempt the climb to the top, but I'm not sure I would've made it with this wrist."

"How come you didn't just call EMS?" Danny asked.

"No signal," the pair answered in unison.

"Found that one out quickly," Luke muttered.

"In hindsight, I should've called while I was still on top of the cliff before I dove down. But he wasn't moving or answering me, and I panicked," Graham said sheepishly.

"I got the wind knocked out of me pretty good," Luke said. "Cracked four ribs and fractured my left forearm. It took me a moment to get my bearings straight, and by the time I did, this idiot was sliding past me at a hundred miles per hour."

"I thought you were dead!"

"And then I thought you were going to die when you went zipping down the cliff!"

Steve eyed Danny in a 'see what I mean?' kind of look.

"The lab's going to change their contract to where you're not allowed to go on adventures with me, and then I won't be able to go anywhere because where's the fun if I'm by myself?" Luke said.

"Lab?" Danny questioned.

Steve was just as confused. He thought Graham was a teacher and Luke a researcher.

Luke clammed up. Graham stared a spot on the floor for a moment, toying with the ring on his finger.

"It's not like I'm breeching protocol by telling them a few details," he said conspiratorially, though it was with a lighter tone than whatever this lab probably warranted. "Besides, they're cops."

"It's your butt on the line, not mine."

Graham shifted in his chair and looked up at them. "You guys ever heard of Chimera Laboratories?"

Danny nodded to Steve's surprise. His partner turned to him, one hand flicking out as he explained, "It's a research lab based outside of New York, but they have a satellite facility outside of Los Angeles, right?"

"Yeah. There's one outside of Albuquerque, too. Anyway, you know what they do there?"

Steve waited on his partner to expound on it since he had never heard of this place before.

"They study dragons," Danny said.

"A bit deeper than that, but in its simplest form, yes," Luke said.

"How can I not have heard of this?" Steve asked.

"It's not exactly a place that goes around broadcasting its existence," Graham said. He glanced around them and then held up his uninjured arm, flashing the fuchsia scales to the fore. They rippled in the dim lighting, melding from a wine to a blush before settling on fuchsia again. "I'm a volunteer study subject for them."

"Like a guinea pig?" Danny asked.

Luke shook his head. "No. They study him, not test things on him. Dragons have such a natural immunity to diseases and a rapid regeneration rate, that they're trying to find out how to use that ability to create cures for things. Like cancer."

"But dragons catch the flu, get migraines, get cancer, just like humans," Steve said.

"But have you ever heard of a dragon dying from the flu or suffering from migraines long-term?" Graham asked. "And the type of cancer that inflicts dragons is different than what's present in humans. It attacks differently, if at all. Most cases of cancer are in mixed bloods, not full bloods."

"And now that you've injured yourself, you're afraid the lab's going to alter their contract with you, or dump you as a study subject?" Steve asked.

Graham laughed and Luke smirked.

"Dump me? No. It's hard to get dragons to volunteer for study, so they have to keep the ones they have. Am I going to get reamed out by the head researcher? Yes. And let me tell you, that's probably more terrifying than anything else."

"She's a bit of a firecracker," Luke added.

Steve let his hackles fall. Initially, the word laboratory sprang to mind an evil entity doing illegal experimentation on people, like the lab that had produced the mutant Wyvern. This didn't sound like that.

Changing subjects, he asked, "When are you guys going to get released?"

"Tonight. They just wanted to make sure I was hydrated before they let me go," Luke said. He played with the phone sitting on the blanket on the bed. "I'm definitely not looking forward to calling Morgan about this."

"How about I call Morgan and you call Sato?" Graham suggested.

Luke shook his head. "Nope. Your wife scares me more than mine."

Danny turned on his heel, gesturing for them to leave. Steve nodded.

"We're going to go. Stay out of trouble guys," he said.

Luke chuckled. "Well, then, you better tell Murphy to lay off us, okay?"

"He can pack up his law and go," Graham said.

Laughing a little to himself, Steve shut the door behind them. As they walked down the hallway back toward the elevator, Danny looked up at him.

"You're right."

"About what?" The corner of Steve's mouth quirked up.

"They're us. They even have Murphy's Law hanging over their heads."

"See. I told you." Steve punched the button for the elevator. He crossed his arms over his mud streaked chest. "How'd you know about Chimera Labs?"

Danny shrugged. "There was a case Mags and I worked this one time. It had to do with one of their security people getting killed in Jersey. They were helpful, but very uptight with security. I guess it's because they're protecting the identities of their study subjects and whatever they've got brewing, huh?"

Steve silently agreed as they stepped into the elevator car. "I bet Jerry knows more about them."

Danny's hands danced out. "Oh, yeah. And I bet he'll give you all the details on the Godzilla monster they're hiding in their basement, too."

He grinned. "I like his enthusiasm."

"So that's what they're calling it."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", an ominous, possibly foreboding chapter.**

 **There's an artwork on the art page, so check that out.**

 **Now, in the grander scheme of the "Dragons" universe (including other fandoms and original works now stemming from it), Graham and Luke are semi-important characters, but I'm not sure if they'll be super important in upcoming chapters. Now, Chimera Labs, on the other hand...hehehe...**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	118. Fact 103

**Maybe listen to Hozier's "In the Woods Somewhere" before reading this?**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

 **Warning: Chapter contains attempted suicide.**

* * *

 **Fact #103: The biggest monsters are often the ones inside.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 4**

Danny kissed Grace's forehead as he tucked her into bed. He was counting the days until she declared herself too old for his affections. For now, though, he cherished the small moments.

He walked through his quiet house, feeling a bit like something was missing. The storm wasn't supposed to be as bad tonight and the others had returned to their own homes. His house felt empty. He'd grown up in a big family with his three siblings and several cousins visiting at various times throughout the years. Don't get him wrong, he liked his privacy, but going from a large group to only two left a void.

Shoving the sheets aside, he settled down into his own bed and sighed. At least he had Grace. He wasn't sure what he would do without her, or his insane partner for that matter.

It wasn't something he wanted to contemplate.

* * *

 _My head was warm_

 _My skin was soaked_

 _I called your name 'til the fever broke_

He didn't jolt awake. Not anymore. Despite that, the droplets of sweat on his bare body spoke volumes of the kind of dreams that plagued his sleeping hours. Staring bleary eyed and dazed at the dark ceiling of his cell, he considered the parched state of his mouth and wondered if he'd been yelling for them again.

A tremor shook him.

If only it was an earthquake.

The sweating and the shaking warned him of the horrible night he was going to have.

 _I raised myself_

 _My legs were weak_

 _I prayed my mind be good to me_

Sighing, he pushed himself upright and rested his head against the wall. Drawing on its coolness, he breathed deeply. In and out. In. And out.

These moments had become less and less since his time at the Ranch. The violent ups and downs of his mood had leveled off somewhat thanks to the prison doctor's medication recommendations.

But even the strongest mood stabilizers and tranqs couldn't quell the waking nightmares.

In the cell down from his, his new neighbor screamed.

 _An awful noise_

 _Filled the air_

 _I heard a scream in the woods somewhere_

September, 2005. The pain would never go away. He'd always hear the screams. Screams for help. Help he would never be in time to provide.

"Millie! Ali!"

His own screams. His throat raw when he shot upright in bed. His wife's screams still haunting him long after he'd woken up.

 _A woman's voice_

 _I quickly ran_

 _Into the trees with empty hands_

October, 2005, and he finally fled.

It wasn't Millie's pleas to save them that sent him bolting into the woods on that fateful cool night. It wasn't her dying screams, her body going slack in his arms, the market around them full of murder and fire.

It was Ali. Five year olds should never scream like she did.

The trees were dark. So dark. The hum of cicadas vibrated the air and the darkness was tangible, ominous and welcoming at the same time. A casket that promised peace. It beckoned him.

The woods swallowed him up, and there as he ran, he found something.

 _A fox it was_

 _He shook afraid_

 _I spoke no words, no sound he made_

Collapsing among the towering trees in the humming darkness, he confided to the night that he was broken. Too broken to continue. He couldn't do it. He was too scared.

Millie had teasingly said he was clever whenever he showed her a new chemistry or physics experiment. He always had answers. Knew how to fix it.

Something inside him had broken so badly, he couldn't even begin to know how to remedy this. On his knees, his soul ripped open to the world, no amount of cleverness would save him now.

 _His bone exposed_

 _His hind was lame_

 _I raised a stone to end his pain_

The thumb and forefinger nails on his right hand darkened and grew beyond their normal length, curving to deadly tips.

Setting the talons against the opposite wrist, he let the last tears roll and promised himself that he'd finally get some peace.

 _I saw new eyes were watching me_

Blood poured from his arm, black and warm in the darkness.

As he raised his talons again to rake open his veins, all the hairs prickled on the back of his neck. There was a heat. A heat coming from inside his chest.

The talons flexed and in some hidden part of his mind, something other than the empty void of brokenness surfaced.

An imposing form revealed itself in the dark woods. Talons the size of icepicks glinted in the nonexistent light. Teeth gnashed at his fleeing hopelessness. Orange eyes glittered like embers.

He lowered his hand and swallowed. The magmatic heat flooded through his veins. Something was replacing the fear and mourning, the brokenness and collapse of self.

It gripped him tightly.

 _The creature lunged_

 _I turned and ran_

 _To save a life I didn't have_

He shook his head and poised his talons again. The anger, the fury was terrifying. All consuming. It was so hot and vengeful.

When he couldn't bring his talons to his wrist again, he bit his lip and then screamed at the nothingness. He gave himself over to the creature that was giving him something other than sadness to focus on.

 _Forgot all prayers of joining you_

 _I clutched my life_

 _And wished it kept_

Black and purple scales melded with the surrounding woods. The orange accents glowed brightly against the encroaching darkness as did the orange irises. Talons scored tree trunks, uprooted tussocks of grass, crushed bushes.

He exhaled heavily, panting in the heat of his own destruction. The fire inside him dug its claws into his fragile armor and burned his heart. The memory of Millie and Ali stayed lit in the furnace of his mind.

A torrent of fire sprayed from his jaws. Smoke wafted around him, thick and hazy. Tongues of flame leapt from branch to branch, swiftly crawling through the dry grass until the darkness was gone, replaced by a furious light.

In the flickering glow of the spreading fire, he came to the realization that he'd been focused on what he had lost. He'd spent all his time wallowing in his failure to protect his wife and daughter, and wishing for them to come back.

He hadn't looked at the culprits.

He hadn't look at them.

At the humans.

 _My dearest love I'm not done yet_

Duncan opened his eyes, back in the present for the time being.

Perched high up in his cell and balanced precariously on a beam, he listened to his neighbor scream and yell about whatever drivel the man was stuck on.

Millie and Ali weren't coming back. He'd accepted that a long time ago.

"…and when the revolution happens, all you bastards will be sorry! Dragons will reign supreme! Stupid, arrogant…."

His neighbor moved further away from their shared wall.

Tilting his head back and resting his single arm on his knee, he squinted at the darkened far side of his cell. "Man and beast, one and the same. Humans can burn a city just as quickly as a dragon."

He would know. Humans had taken his heart right out of him August 18, 2005. A feral beast had replaced it with magma and fury. He had become that beast, and he had caused untold injury and destruction.

Millie would cry if she saw him now.

Talons gripped the beam and he swung down mid-shift, dripping like a drop of oil from the third level of the cell. Down, down to the ground. His time incarcerated had allowed him to practice using only one arm. Exercise in the Birdcage proved to be invaluable in adapting to his handicap.

His feet hit the floor.

Here at ground level, the small holes in the clear front wall let him hear what his neighbor was ranting about.

"And what monsters have you faced?" Duncan questioned, his deep and refined voice holding the low grumble at bay.

"All of them! I've seen it with my own two eyes, man. I've seen things you wouldn't even begin to believe–"

"No. You haven't faced the biggest monster of them all. I can hear it in your voice. A peacock strutting its feathers, chest puffed with imagined slights. Flashy feathers and no fire. A rebel without a cause." He waited, densely scaled chest heaving with breath.

The curt f-bomb he received told him he had struck a nerve.

He'd started something, once upon a time. And he intended on finishing it.

 _I found something in the woods somewhere_

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Grace's class visits an art exhibit.**

 **Art piece up on the art page. Lyrics are from "In the Woods Somewhere" by Hozier.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	119. Fact 104

**Grace-centric one!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #104: Just because something's popular doesn't mean it's true.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 4**

Grace wished Danno or Uncle Steve was chaperoning her field trip again. Since the storm had mostly passed, she'd had to return to school. Thankfully, there had been a trip to the art museum planned and they decided to go through with it despite the state of some areas of Honolulu, so she wasn't immediately going back to the books. But her dad and uncle were busy with clean up and still helping HPD out with calls.

Their tour guide pointed at large canvases hanging on the walls while their two teachers tried to keep the rowdier students reigned in. What the guide was saying seemed to be going in one ear and out the other, and Grace guiltily realized she hadn't been listening all that well.

The craftsmanship was amazing. She knew that. She couldn't paint like that. But the subject matter didn't capture her interest. Lots of dudes in medieval clothing doing this or that. A couple of naked people that the boys snickered at. A man on a horse saving a woman. A few dead dragons that made her skin crawl.

"And this is the main exhibit at the moment. It's only here for another week and then it's heading to the Phoenix Art Museum," the guide said as they were led into an open room with various paintings, sculptures, and installations.

"This is the part where you can look around at the art with your buddy, then we're going to go get lunch. You are not allowed to leave this room," Mr. Talmadge said. He was eyeing Tommy specifically.

Grace's buddy was Lucy. After the whole camping trip fiasco, they had become pretty good friends. What they couldn't decide was what to look at first.

"Let's go look at that big log," Lucy finally chose for the pair of them.

Grace followed her across the white tiles, glancing at the eerie suspended shards of glass in one corner of the room.

"Where's your uncle?"

"Huh?" She furrowed her brows at Lucy. "My Uncle Steve?"

"Yeah."

"He's helping clean up after the storm," she said and shrugged. "A branch almost fell on our car. It missed, but other people had trees fall on their houses. And the police need help with 911 calls."

"Oh," Lucy said. She looked a bit disappointed. "I kinda hoped he would be here today."

Grace rolled her eyes behind her friend's back. Lucy was obsessed with Uncle Steve. He was too cool. Danno told her that Lucy was going to be in for it if she liked boys like her uncle when she got older. Dangerous boys with charming smiles. She was pretty sure Danno was overreacting, and knew for a fact that Lucy had crushes come and go like the waves on the beach.

"What is this?" she asked just to change the subject.

They stared at the large chunk of driftwood perched on nearly invisible pedestals. Grace paced around it to look at the other side. Images had been burned into the wood.

One eventually looked discernable. "That one looks like a whale."

"Oh yeah, like the ones at Sea World," Lucy agreed.

"Sea wolves."

They turned around at the voice that crackled like a smoldering fire. An old woman stood leaning heavily on her cane, her face wrinkled and leathery, hands gnarled with arthritis, and hair grayer than ashes.

"That's what many peoples of the coasts call them," the old woman said. She grinned a gap-tooth grin. "You call them orcas."

Grace smiled warily. Danno didn't like her talking to strangers, yet at the same time she knew this was a really old woman. She could outwalk her, never mind outrun.

"But that one's not an orca." Lucy pointed at one of the carvings amongst the pod of whales. "It's got four legs."

The old woman nodded. She shuffled closer. "Many native peoples called them the wolves of land, sky, and water. Europeans called them dragons."

Now that she was looking at it with that knowledge, Grace could see the dragon swimming with the orcas. Only, it didn't look like any dragon she had seen or heard of, or it may have been artistic interpretation. That was one phrase she had caught from the tour guide.

"Is it an Amphibian?" she asked.

The old woman looked fondly at the driftwood, raising a hand as if she wanted to stroke it. Her dark eyes sparkled from behind the folds of her aged face. "Amphibian. Drake. Serpent. Before the Europeans arrived with their classifications and distrust of all things different, the peoples didn't differentiate by types. One was a son of the sky, another of the water."

"So, basically, they had Wyverns and Amphibians but didn't call them that?" Lucy asked.

The old woman crooked a finger at them and shuffled off toward another display. Grace shot a look at Lucy and shrugged. They followed her over to an intricately painted porcelain vase, deep red with gold and black accents all over.

"A man has a plot of land," the old woman said. Grace frowned, not understanding. The old woman continued, "On that land, he has a pond. In that pond, he counts six different fishes. One with orange scales, one with gray, one with whiskers, one big, one small, and one with many spines. He concludes that these are the only six fish that exist in the entire world."

"But that's dumb," Lucy said. "There're all kinds of fish."

"If he left his pond and went to someone else's, he'd see different fish," Grace added.

"Exactly."

Grace turned her head to where the old woman was looking. The vase was covered in fluid paintings of dragons. Dragons of all kinds. She recognized a two-legged Wyvern with its wings spread wide. A long and sinewy Serpent. A finned Amphibian. A burly Drake. A flying Cliff. A slinking Arboreal.

And several others that didn't immediately fit into a category.

"What's that one?" she asked. The velvet rope around the display didn't let her precisely indicate which creature she was talking about, but the old woman seemed to know.

"He who eats squid and sees in darkness," the old woman answered. "Next to him is a prince, the one who displays many crests."

She eyed the vase in awe. "Were these real dragons?"

"They can't be. They don't fit into the types," Lucy said from around the other side of the vase. "They're like legends or gods or something, right?"

"Six types. That is what you learn in school, yes?" the old woman asked.

They nodded.

"Do they teach you of the big dragons of the north who swim with whales, or the decorated dragons of the east with jeweled colors?"

"I think we had a legend and mythology section about that," Lucy said.

Grace glanced at the vase and then back at the old woman. "If there were dragons outside of the six types, wouldn't we see them?"

"Perhaps," the old woman said. She grinned and tapped her cane on the floor.

Looking around at all the art in the exhibit, Grace realized that most of it was dragon oriented. Either crafted by dragons or about dragons. And in many of the pieces, there were unidentifiable types. Maybe it wasn't all artistic interpretation.

The old woman patted her shoulder. "The world is much bigger than one pond, don't you think?"

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", it's a surprise because my schedule's up in the air right now!**

 **We're laying irrigation pipe and it has been a living nightmare. My writing is all over the place, I barely got this chapter done. Next week's chapter will be whatever gets done first. Hopefully after this weekend it'll get back to a semi-normal routine.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	120. Fact 105

**A familial slice of life.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #105: Books open up new worlds.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 4**

Danny walked back into Steve's house after taking the hamburgers out for his partner to grill. The deceptively simple invitation for the team to eat dinner at his house had been a ruse. He wanted help cleaning up all the sandbags and bribed them with beer and food once they were there.

"Grace, you want cheese on your burger?" he asked as he dug through the fridge in search of the packets of sliced cheese.

"Uh…yeah," the answer came from the living room.

"Cheddar or pepperjack?"

"Cheddar."

Danny straightened up, cheese in each hand. He peered around the corner at his daughter on the couch, backpack at her feet and nose buried in a book. "Watcha reading?"

"I got a book at the museum yesterday," she said. She tilted it so he could see the cover.

He furrowed his brows. "I thought you didn't like nonfiction?"

Grace shrugged. "I dunno. I like this one."

"Where's that cheese, Danny?"

He rolled his eyes at Steve's impatient voice. "Your uncle is a hump, you know that?"

"Danno," she scolded with a chuckle.

After delivering the cheese to his partner by slapping them against his chest, he returned inside with his beer and sat down next to Grace. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table and let himself relax back into the cushions. It had been a long week with the havoc of the storm.

"What's the weirdest dragon you've seen?" Grace asked suddenly.

He looked down at her imploring eyes. "Weirdest dragon? Besides your cousin?"

"Eric isn't that weird looking. He's just long with short legs, and colored like an Oreo," she said. She set her book splayed open on the arm of the couch so she wouldn't lose her place, and then pivoted to face him more. "I'm serious, Danno."

He scratched the stubble on his chin, making a mental note to make an effort to shave before the day was through. "I've seen all kinds of dragons as a cop, Monkey."

"And they all looked normal to you?" she asked.

There was one that stood out to him as highly unusual, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to share that account with her. In his mind, she would always be his little girl, even if she was maturing before his very eyes. Taking a deep breath, he flapped a hand around and said, "Remember last Halloween?"

She nodded.

"There was a bad guy who was a dragon, and he was kind of odd looking," he said, careful of what details he revealed. As she got older, she had grown curiouser of his job and he'd had to learn how to censor his stories where she got enough to be satisfied but not enough to have nightmares. "Really big guy. All white."

"Albino?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. He had dark horns and eyes."

"Oh," she said. She frowned. "Then what made him weird?"

Other than everything about him? "He was a Wyvern, but he didn't have any wing membranes. It just looked like he had really long fingers. What's got your interest all piqued, huh?"

"Woah. That is kinda weird." She grabbed her book again and flipped back a couple of pages. She pointed at one of the pictures inlaid amongst the text. "This dragon is in Canada. Or was. I don't know if he's still alive."

The picture was grayscale. Standing in front of a few canoes were a couple of humans, all of them dressed in heavy winter coats. Behind them was a dark dragon leaning in for the picture. It had a thick head and neck that was completely smooth, devoid of the fins and horns most dragons had. A bear pelt sat like a shawl on its shoulders, held on by braided cord with small pendants dangling off of it.

"They say that the Native American tribes up in Alaska and Canada had dragons in them, and some of them would hunt with the orcas," Grace explained.

The black and white coloration was reminiscent of an orca now that he had that factoid. "Huh. You know, sometimes Drake and Amphibian crossbreeds are smooth like that."

"What if it's a whole new dragon? Or an old dragon that hasn't been classified yet?" she countered.

Personally, he'd seen so many things in his career and even more since moving to Hawaii that it wouldn't surprise him if there were dragons that fell through the cracks of the types. "Maybe. I don't know about you, but I haven't traveled the world that much, so I'm pretty sure for every culture and little village off the beaten path, there's some kind of odd dragon. Like did you know that here on the islands they have legends about blind dragons living in lava tubes?"

"Uncle Chin told me about that once," she said. "Did you know that there're stories about things living under the sand in the deserts and then popping up and eating people?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Did you watch _Tremors_?"

Her mouth snapped shut and her eyes widened. "Lana's mom said it was okay."

"Monkey, you know I don't like you watching scary movies like that," he said.

"It wasn't that scary. More stupid and funny," she said weakly. "Sorry, Danno."

He sighed. "You're getting to be a big girl, Grace, and soon you'll be able to watch whatever you want, but can you listen to your old man for just a couple more years?"

"I guess so. You know, I don't even really like scary movies."

"Me neither. My life is a scary movie working with your Uncle Steve."

"Hey!" Steve made a face as he walked into the living room with a plate full of burgers. "What're you doing telling her I'm such a nightmare to work with?"

"The truth hurts, babe."

"You love me," Steve said, effectively shutting down the argument. "Burgers are done. Come dress them how you want them."

"Come on, Monkey. You can finish reading later," Danny said and stood up.

Grace stuck a bookmark in between the pages and shoved the book into her backpack. "Hey, Uncle Steve, what's the strangest dragon you've ever seen?"

Danny glanced heavenward and hoped his partner wouldn't scar her for life with an overly vivid description of some terrifying beast.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Five-0 is surprised when their favorite doctor turns around and calls in a favor from them.**

 **Just a quick sketch is up on the art page for this chapter.**

 **We're hoping to get the pipe to the fence line today, and after that it'll be easier to lay. Hopefully that means my week will free up and I can give you guys bigger chapters. ;)**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	121. Fact 106

**Nothing fancy. Just me fudging some facts about tribes in South America.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #106: Dragons are not easy targets.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 4**

 _A few days ago…._

Mauna stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. Her shift had just ended. She should have been heading home to catch up on some dearly needed sleep. But having people she could loosely call friends had caused her to make the decision to go upstairs instead. Why she was going upstairs to pay a visit to someone, she wasn't sure.

She'd heard about the helicopter flying in two guys earlier. The snippets she had caught during her brief reprieve in the breakroom were that both men had been hurt, they bickered like an old married couple, and Five-0 had been involved.

The slightly raised voices carried out of the semi-open door. Through her tired fog she didn't latch onto the fact neither one had a Jersey accent. It was only when she peeked into the room that she realized she'd made the wrong presumption of who had been brought in.

Seeing as she the men in the room weren't the heads of Five-0, she turned to leave.

"Hey, Doc, wait a minute. Come in."

She scrubbed a hand over her face. She had a bed in a dark room with the AC on high waiting for her at her house, yet she was obliged to see if the patients needed help. A doctor's work was never done.

"Yeah. What's up?" she asked, walking in and standing at the foot of the bed with her arms crossed. If the scribble on the chart was anything to go by, this was Doctor Day's problem, not hers.

The bearded man sitting in the chair next to the bed looked up at her with a dead serious expression. "Would you rather eat a bull testicle or earthworms?"

The gears ground to a complete halt in her brain. She blinked sluggishly. "What?"

"Bull testicle or earthworms?" the man on the bed repeated.

Had she been more awake than in her current nearly asleep on her feet state, she would have given them an earful for pulling her in here for a round of Would You Rather instead of letting her go home. As it was, she waffled between slapping the pair of them or humoring them.

Her sleep deprived laziness won out. "Bull testicle."

"Boom. Take that, Graham," the man on the bed said.

The bearded man shook his head and looked up at Mauna pleadingly. "Come on, don't listen to Luke. You don't want to eat a bull testicle. Calf testicles are fine when they're battered and fried, but they get a bad texture and taste when they get bigger."

"But earthworms taste like sour dirt and are gritty," she said.

Luke in the bed leaned back into his pillows with a smug look. "Don't let him fool you. He'd rather eat a bull testicle than earthworms, too. He just took up the worms' side for argument's sake."

"That's because I know you wouldn't eat an earthworm if it was the last edible thing on the planet," Graham rebutted.

Mauna took a second to process the words. The two did remind her a little of the heads of Five-0, but also of her housemate with his inane conversations. "Are we talking dried out earthworms or live ones?"

"Will it change your answer?" Graham asked.

"If they were charcoal briquettes then it might," she said.

"Live," Luke clarified.

She shrugged. "I've eaten stuff that would peel paint off walls and make normal stomachs churn. But that's the beauty of living somewhere that has takeout of all kinds. I don't have to eat the bugs."

"But you would if you had to?" Luke raised a brow.

She was too tired for this. "Been there, done that, would rather have limited legs on my food now. If you guys don't have an actual medical emergency, I'm going to leave."

"Nope. Thanks for participating, Doc," Luke said.

"Go home and get some sleep. You look dead on your feet," Graham added.

She rolled her eyes, her normally tightly strung posture slouched from exhaustion. Slinking out of the room into the hallway, she nodded to the nurses at the station and slowly but surely made her way out into the staff parking lot.

The sun hung low on the western horizon, a glowing ball of fire shining on the bellies of the lingering gray clouds, casting long shadows across the cars and buildings. A cool, humid breeze drifted through. Inhaling deeply, Mauna let the refreshing smell and sporadic sprinkles of rain wake her up enough for the drive home.

If she hadn't been dragging, she would have noticed an overly curious set of eyes as she climbed into her red Jeep and pulled away from the hospital.

* * *

 _Today…._

Steve rolled over. He groped around the nightstand in search of his ringing phone. It was barely dawn. Even he wouldn't have been up for another half hour or so before taking a run.

"McGarrett," he greeted gruffly.

He sat up at the unexpected voice on the other end.

"Mauna?"

Halfway through the conversation he started getting dressed. It was going to be an early day. Thankfully, since this didn't sound like it was going to be an official case, he didn't have to rouse Danny and face the wrath of a Category 4 rant.

The sky was softening to gray with a pale yellow streak on the eastern horizon by the time he was pulling up to the coffee shop in his truck. While most of the rest of the neighborhood was quiet and still, the small coffee shop was alive with a warm and languid energy. He could see the copper hair sitting at a table outside before he even got out.

Mauna was sans scrubs, wearing a blue hibiscus sarong and a loose fitting white shirt with flip flops. It was almost disturbingly out of the norm to see her casually dressed.

"Guess doctors get up earlier than SEALs," she said when he sat in the chair opposite of her.

Steve looked her up and down. "What's wrong?"

"Yep. You're right. Screw small talk," she said and leaned on the table with her elbows, hands cupped around her coffee. "I think someone's trying to kill me."

His eyes widened fractionally. "You said it was a small problem."

Her lip curled a little bit. "It was, until they almost killed my housemate."

"How?" he asked.

She reached into the satchel leaning against her chair and set a specimen bag on the table between them. "They got into my house while I was at work and left a to-go box in the fridge. I don't eat food that I don't remember getting, but my housemate eats everything. He thought it was something I'd brought home."

He picked up the bag and squinted at the contents. It looked like some kind of rice noodles with vegetables and beef. "What was in it?"

"Thankfully, after the first bite he knew something was wrong," she said. The dark expression on her face added an edge to her unnaturally even and calm tone. "He still had it a bit rough for a few hours. You ever hear of _Amanita marmorata_?"

He nodded. "Type of mushroom. Death cap?"

"Marbled death cap. Native to the islands. Had it tested."

"Is your housemate okay?"

"He'll live. He considers himself as having excellent taste buds and it's probably what saved him a lot of issues this time around," she said and drained her coffee.

He set the bag down and looked her in the eye. "Why didn't you go to the police?"

She cracked a humorless smirk. "You know how slow they move, especially after this storm. Plus, I think you owe me one."

He couldn't argue. He probably did owe her one, or many. Despite her griping at them for being boneheads, she usually jumped onboard with whatever they needed her help with, starting with the Wyvern attack clear to helping Danny fake his own death. Accepting the fact that this was now Five-0's case, a case involving a comrade, he dropped into investigative mode.

"Who would want you dead?" he asked.

"Well, I'll save you some time and tell you I don't think it has anything to do with my time here on the island," she said.

"Why?"

She flipped her phone around. "This is why."

* * *

Danny scrubbed the grit from his eyes as he trudged into the Palace in the humid early morning light. Typically, they didn't start work until a bit later, but Steve said they had a case. It must have been more than just opportunistic thieves taking advantage of some of the power outages caused by the storm for their leader to call them all in.

Kono slipped into the elevator with him. "Good morning, brah."

"Is it?" he asked, waving a hand around.

"Apparently not for you," she said into her coffee cup as she took a sip.

He swiped the waving hand over his hair and let it drop to his side. "Sorry to rain on your mood, babe. It would just be nice to have one day, huh? A vacation. We've been going nonstop and, personally, I need some time away from all this crazy."

"I know what you mean. Adam and I are talking about going to Maui for a weekend or something," she said.

They stepped off the elevator. Voices carried through the bullpen and Danny could see displays on the hanging monitors before pushing through the glass doors.

"What's this case that had you getting me up before seven, Steven?" he questioned.

Steve ignored him. Chin continued typing on the smart table. Kono took her place next to her cousin and got a quick rundown of what techno-wizardry he was performing.

"I'm glad you're so thrilled," a familiar smoky voice snapped at him from across the room.

He pivoted on his heel. "Miss Molotov Cocktail herself. What are you doing in our offices at this fine hour?"

"Trying to not die," she said and stood up from the table. She handed Steve a notepad. "These are the ones I remember."

A lightbulb clicked on. His hands went up to gesture at her and the monitors. "Oh, this case is about you. What happened?"

"Someone tried to poison her with death cap mushrooms," Steve said, his attention zeroed in on the scribbles in his hand. "Here, Chin, cross reference these."

"Does someone want to fill me in on what we're doing? I feel like I'm just watching a crime show where all the details are flying over my head," Danny said. He stood next to Steve and eyed the displays on the monitors. "Someone left a fish head on your doorstep?"

"A fish head with no eyes," Mauna confirmed. By the way she was holding herself, he could tell it wasn't just her usual tenseness plaguing her today. The crossed arms, set jaw, narrowed eyes, and rigid back all screamed something was not right in her world. "It's a tribal South American version of a Black Spot. But I can't remember which tribe uses it."

"You've been judged guilty for something, huh?" Danny braced himself against the table. "What did you do? It can't be because of your warm, fuzzy personality."

"If we were including the people whose cheerios I've pissed in, it would be a very long list," she mumbled.

"Here," Chin interrupted. He flicked a map up onto one of the monitors. A small portion was highlighted. "There's not much to go on, but this is the best I can do."

"I was there in the late 2000s," Mauna said. Her frown deepened. One handedly, she scratched the back of her neck under the cascade of copper hair falling down her back. "Not sure what I would've done to warrant an eyeless fish head."

"What were you doing while you were there?" Kono asked.

Mauna lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Doctor stuff."

"So you didn't lead a coup or a revolution or plan an assassination or anything?" Danny asked with raised brows.

The sidelong look he received could've set him on fire. "I hid from guerillas. I didn't kill them."

"Does your house have any security cameras up?" Chin asked, breaking up the conversation before someone stuck their foot in their mouth.

"Backyard. Already checked. Nothing," she said. "Noodle said he didn't hear anyone break in, but he wasn't at the house all day."

"Noodle?" Steve gave a short chuckle.

"Self-given nickname. Prefers it over his real name," Mauna said. She scrubbed a hand over her face and settled her weight back on her heels.

Danny held a hand out imploringly. "Why don't you go grab some coffee and a snack from the breakroom, okay? We'll start figuring out how someone would get a hold of death caps as a starting point and go from there."

"Already had breakfast this morning," she said and stayed put.

"Three cups of coffee don't count," Steve countered.

She started to open her mouth but was interrupted by her phone ringing, playing "I Need a Doctor" by Dr. Dre. She glared at Danny specifically as his lips quirked up. "Say something. I dare you. Mauna."

Danny looked down at the information on the smart table. He may have said death caps were a starting point, but they still didn't have much. They didn't even have a bare minimum description of the unsub.

"Hale?" Mauna scrunched her face in confusion. "No, I have the day off. Why?"

Steve nudged her and mouthed 'speakerphone'.

She complied, setting the phone down on the smart table. "Say it again. What happened?"

" _Some guy approached me when I was leaving work this morning. He knew I worked with you and introduced himself as your friend from college. He wanted to know where you were."_

"Bingo," Kono said under her breath.

"What did he look like?" Mauna asked.

" _About your height. Dark hair and scruff. Leather jacket. Had an accent."_

Mauna glanced at the map on the monitor. "You know where it was from?"

" _South American. Chilean or Argentinian_ _, I think. Or at least somewhere in that area. Something didn't feel right about him. Are you in trouble?"_

"He might be attempting to kill me, so I'm glad you didn't tell him where I was," she said flatly.

" _Ah, hell, Cal. What've you gotten yourself into?"_

"Where did he go after he talked to you?"

" _Got on a motorcycle and left. Where are you? Are you safe?"_

"I'm with Five-0 and Noodle's off island."

"Did you happen to catch a plate number?" Danny asked.

" _No. But it had a rental tag on the plate. Chase Hawaii, I think."_

"That's good enough for me," Chin said and began typing.

"Hey, call me sooner next time if you run into him again," Mauna said.

" _If I would've known, I would've just called HPD. Stay safe, and let me know when you catch this guy. I have enough stress without worrying about you."_

"I'm a big girl. You don't have to worry about me," she said and hung up. Looking around at them, she gave a pleased huff. "Guess we've got a better starting point now."

* * *

Steve didn't bother telling Mauna to hang back at the office. He knew it'd be a futile argument. Instead, he let her force Danny to fold up into the back of the Camaro and sit silently in the passenger seat while he drove.

"How long were you in South America?" he asked.

She had her forehead braced on the heel of her palm and her eyes watched the buildings and palm trees go by. "Couple of years off and on."

Danny leaned forward between the seats. "Why'd you move to Hawaii? Are you an islander born and raised?"

"This is where I landed when I fell from space," she deadpanned.

"You're worse than him when we first met, you know that, right?" Danny jerked a thumb at Steve.

"I didn't tell you things were classified just for laughs, bud," Steve defended. "You kept asking about things that were a matter of national security."

"Your childhood was not a matter of national security," Danny griped. "I'd say neither was your love life, but with the things you and Catherine did in the Navy, I'm not sure about that."

Steve smirked.

They pulled into Chase Hawaii Rentals just behind Chin and Kono in the Traverse. The owner had been surprised, but compliant on the phone and agreed to show them security footage from the last week.

While Chin set his sorting feature to work, eliminating people who didn't fit their description, the other four milled around in the front of the small store. With it being the off-season, there were quite a few motorcycles sitting around.

"Now that's a crotch rocket." Kono pointed at one of the Harleys.

"Ouch, cuz. They're not crotch rockets," Chin said across the store.

"Donor-cycles," Mauna commented lowly. "Or murder-cycles. Sui-cycles. Depends on which paramedic you're talking to."

"And that's why I drive a car," Danny said.

"That thing would crumple up into a ball if you got clocked by a semi," Mauna said.

"You drive a Jeep. Doesn't Jeep stand for Junk Engineering Executed Poorly?" Danny retorted, flapping a hand at her in irritation.

"I thought it was Just Empty Every Pocket?" Kono grinned cheekily.

"Can Hear Every Valve Yelling, or alternatively, Cannot Have Expensive Vehicle Yet. Chevy." Mauna put her hands up like she was reading it off a sign, the Camaro parked out front perfectly framed between them.

"You're a Ford person, aren't you?" Danny shook his head.

"Found Off Road Dead," Steve said.

"But an old Ford's still going to be in one piece when you're found," Mauna said.

"Hate to break up your little car bashing thing you've got going on, but we've got the list narrowed down." Chin brought his tablet over to them and held it up for Mauna to see. "Seven suspects matching Hale's description have rented motorcycles in the last week and have yet to return them."

Mauna took one look and exhaled audibly. She combed her fingers through her hair. "I know who it is."

* * *

"His sister's name was Maria," Mauna said as they drove back to the Palace. "I was in some crappy hellhole in the middle of nowhere in the Andes. There had been a mudslide and we were helping as many people as we could."

"I'm guessing his sister didn't make it?" Danny said.

Mauna rubbed her temples. "Long story short, she had allergies and some outlier genetics that we didn't get told about."

"Outlier genetics?" Steve echoed, sparing her glance.

"Unclassed dragons. Ones that don't fit into a neat little box in the classified six types," she explained.

"Like orca dragons that swim with whales?" Danny asked.

Mauna frowned at him in confusion over her shoulder. "Yeah. She started to have a bad reaction to the Fire Root, which I've never seen before unless they were on drugs already, but when we attempted to counter it, it all went downhill. Everything we tried just made it worse. She seized and her heart finally gave out, and to this day I don't know if it was her genetics or an individual reaction."

"But her brother blamed you," Danny surmised.

She nodded. "He didn't get there until later, and he saw her die. He was so angry at us. Thought we had neglected her to treat the two white guys that had been injured. And then he blamed us for not knowing how to handle a dragon. He didn't see how we had tried to save her. Jarod finally got him calmed down enough so he could pay his respects and arrange to take the body."

"And now he wants revenge," Steve said. It was a sad thing he had seen many times, often with innocent bystanders caught in the middle.

Mauna didn't say anything.

When they arrived at the Palace, she split off towards her Jeep.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Danny questioned.

"You've got the GPS on his bike. You know where he is. All you're doing here is gearing up before going after him, right?" She paused at the door of her Jeep, looking tired and like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"You should stay here," Steve said.

"At least until we've got this guy in cuffs, babe," Danny added.

Her shoulders slouched. "Can I at least go get some coffee that isn't that weak crap you've got up there? Father dearest?"

"If you die it's not for lack of me trying." Danny waved her off. "Coffee and straight back here, got it? Or you're grounded."

She gave him a one finger salute and got in her Jeep.

Steve watched her drive off with apprehension. Setting that worry for her safety to the back of his mind, he glanced over at his partner. "Father dearest? Grounded? I wish there was footage from you living with her for over a week."

"Trust me, no you don't," Danny said. "She's very acerbic. And puts pineapple on everything."

He snorted. "I bet she did that just to annoy you."

"I wouldn't put it past her."

* * *

She was getting coffee. It wasn't from one of the many Starbucks dotted near the Palace, but it was coffee. She hadn't lied. She just hadn't specified that it was from a quiet place off the beaten path in a suburb closer to where she lived.

Pulling up into the gravel parking lot, she took a moment to breathe. She wasn't dense. She knew leaving Five-0 was a bonehead move. For all they knew, Pablo had ditched the motorcycle and gotten a new set of wheels. Or he might've bailed after his failed attempts.

Being a doctor for as long as she had, she'd come to terms with the fact that she would lose patients. Some would be because of circumstances far out of her control, others might be because of her own ineptitude. Maria had been a combination of both. Though, she took some morbid comfort in the fact that even Jarod had been at a loss of what to do to combat the violent reaction.

Mauna shoved her sunglasses on top of her head and started to get out of the Jeep.

 _Click._

" _Che,_ Doctor Mauna. Long time, no see."

Of course.

In her peripheral, she could see Pablo standing slightly to the side and behind her with a pistol leveled at her head. He was out of arm's reach, so she couldn't knock the gun aside even if she tried. Instead, she deftly touched her phone screen a few times and left it face down on the seat as she slid the rest of the way out of the Jeep.

"Stop. Don't move," he said in a softly accented voice.

She stood still, hands twitching in indecision of whether or not to raise them or leave them at her sides. "Pablo. You're a long way from the Andes."

"It took me a while to find you, and get on the island," he said. "Walk into the trees. Slowly. No funny business. Remember, I hold your life in my hands now, just like you held my sister's life."

"Jungle execution," she said and snorted. She started to walk. "Not exactly how I imagined I would go out."

"I'm sure Maria didn't think she would die convulsing while two American doctors stood by and did nothing," he hissed.

The foliage absorbed them like a green alien mass, leaving only shuddering leaves in their wake. The thick canopy overhead shaded them. Mauna picked her way over the tangles of roots and vines. A coffee shop this far from the Palace hadn't been a brilliant idea. They had probably heard the situation via the phone call she'd made and hopefully were following her signal. Pablo hadn't had the foresight to check her phone.

"Maria was a good woman," she said after a few beats of only them rustling through the jungle.

"You have no right to say that. You didn't know her."

She ducked under a low hanging branch. "Am I wrong?"

Quiet. Then, "No. She was the only one of us kids that turned out right."

"You know how I know she was a good woman?" she asked. There was a clear spot on the ground, littered with leaves and mud. She paused there.

"Hey, hey, keep moving," Pablo ordered.

She turned sideways and looked at him. "Because she got hurt saving people from the mudslide. Not one, not two, but five people. A brave person would save someone else. A selfless person would save five."

Pablo clenched his teeth, the pistol in his hand wavering. Tears welled in his eyes. "You think I don't know that?! She gave of herself to everyone. If someone needed help, they went to Maria. She was perfect, and you killed her!"

Shoulders squared, back ramrod straight, teeth gritted, Mauna nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I might have killed her. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save your sister."

He looked taken aback, like he hadn't expected to hear an apology or admittance of guilt.

"But Maria is still helping people. You know why?" she asked.

Pablo stared at her. He swallowed and his free hand went the cross on his chest.

"When that happened, I learned something. She taught me that I have to be more careful. I can't take away more people's sisters," she said. The sentiment was more fuzzy than what she actually felt in her garnering from that experience, but being a blunt doctor would get her nowhere at the moment.

He breathed out one breath carefully. A second one. A third one. His face hardened and the pistol steadied. "And you'll never take away someone's sister ever again."

* * *

"She's a friggin' Neanderthal animal like you, Steven," Danny grumbled as the Camaro tore into the gravel parking lot outside the coffee shop. "A royal pain in the neck who listens to nobody. I told her coffee and straight back, did I not? And what does she do? She's goes to freaking Timbuctoo and then calls in the cavalry when she gets kidnapped!"

Steve grimly agreed in the silent way that he often did. The pair of them got out of the car and approached the Jeep. Danny plucked her phone out of the driver's seat and ended the call. It had taken them fifteen minutes to get there. With sirens, of course, which they cut before getting too close.

"She said something about a jungle execution." Danny looked around at the tall groves of trees growing to either side of the coffee shop.

"That way." Steve took off to the left like a hound with a scent. Or an Arboreal with a scent, judging by the indigo tongue that flickered between his front teeth.

Steve was the stealthiest in the jungle, followed by Chin and Kono. Danny was proud to say he was no slouch, either, but the woods still were not his forte. He followed in his partner's footsteps with his gun drawn.

"You know, dragons aren't exactly easy to frog march into the trees to execute," he said lowly.

"A gun to the head is a gun to the head. Bullets kill dragons and humans. That fear is still there," Steve said.

"How'd you know she's a dragon, brah?" Kono asked.

"You live with a woman long enough you get to know things about her," he said. "Plus, when we were in the Pit with Jupiter, I saw claws. Mixed bloods don't have claws."

 _Crack!_

Danny cursed and Steve picked up the pace, weaving through the undergrowth towards the origin of the gunshot.

 _Crack!_

Two gunshots. That meant overkill, or one had been a warning shot. Or maybe a murder-suicide.

Danny could've slapped himself. This was stupid. They had been stupid in letting her go off by herself. Being a cop, he should've known better. Being Five-0, he should've known that getting cocky is when people got hurt. Murphy's Law. It was always at play.

There was a break in the foliage. A body was face down on the ground, another against a tree.

"Mauna?" Danny approached her stiffly while Chin and Kono checked on Pablo face down in the dirt.

Amber eyes met his. Through the twigs in the copper hair and the mud streaks on her face, there was a certain gleam in her eyes. She held a pistol out to him handle first.

"You okay?" Steve asked.

She held up a forearm covered in blood red scales and the beginnings of dark, hooked scutes. A small section by her wrist was freshly chipped. "I'll live."

"What'd you do to him?" Chin asked from where he was crouched over the unconscious man.

Mauna pushed herself up onto her feet. She rolled shoulders, cracked her neck, and retracted the rugged looking scales. "Doctors do no harm."

"But a woman fighting for her life might deck someone with a fist coated in scales," Danny said after spying the bloody marks on Pablo's face.

The corner of her mouth quirked up. "He tried to kill Noodle."

"Do no harm, but take no crap," Kono said.

Mauna grunted. "Do no more harm than I've already done to him."

Danny hesitantly reached out and patted her shoulder. She eyed him. He raised his brows. The conversation from when he'd been staying with her and she'd chugged a bottle of Fireball came back.

"Don't give me that stoic nature speech again," she mumbled, but it was without any real heat.

He nodded. He had a better idea of how she handled her issues now than he did then. "How about you come with us to get a drink, huh? Steve's buying."

"First round only," Steve said.

Mauna scrubbed a hand over her face, removing some of the mud. She opened her mouth like she was going to reject the offer. She dropped the first word into a sigh. "Yeah. Sounds good."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", it hasn't been conclusively proven, but it seems that dragons are naturally drawn to each other.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	122. Fact 107

**A slice of life style chapter that got away from me. My bad. But now I've cracked 400k words. Whaaaaat?**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #107: It hasn't been conclusively proven or even that well studied, but it seems that dragons tend to be drawn toward each other.**

 **Season: Mid-late Season 4**

Jerry had a wealth of knowledge in his head. Of course, when the whole incident with the Chinese spies went down, he'd lost most of his information on hard copies. The only thing they couldn't take from him was his mind. Yet. They were probably working on figuring that one out, too.

As it was, he'd come to terms with the fact that once something was on the internet, it was harder to get rid of than simply burning a piece of paper. He may not have been a hardcore blogger like some other people he'd started conversing with online, but he had thoughts he wanted to get out there and get feedback on.

Right now, he was working on a tamer theory.

"Has it ever occurred to anyone that dragons are humans right down to the sense of being social in nature? Humans congregate together naturally. Most people, I am leaving room for a few exceptions, are drawn to having the opportunity to interact in an intelligent way with another person. Perhaps it's in a public setting, or a private one. Online or offline."

He murmured under his breath as he typed. It wasn't a recent thought that had come to mind, but a book he was currently rereading had stoked the fire under it.

"The social nature of humans has been well documented by people who know much more than I do and can give you far more information than I can. What I'm suggesting, though, is the possibility that dragons, whether knowingly or unknowingly, are drawn to associating with other dragons…."

* * *

"True."

"False."

Steve and Danny glared at each other across the coffee table.

"What on earth would possess you to say that's true?" Danny questioned.

"Because, I've seen it before," Steve said.

Grace smothered a grin and slid the card over to her uncle. "It's true."

"What? When have you ever seen something so bizarre?" Danny asked, slapping the cards he'd won down on the table.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor in the living room, the six of them were playing some kind of true/false card game that Danny only knew of because of Grace. Based on that, he felt he should have had the upper hand, but between Steve and Chin, he was struggling to keep a foothold in the game.

"Okay, next question. It's Kono and Chin's turn," Grace said. She held up the question card. "Dragon scales come in every color, even ones not commonly found in nature."

The cousins eyed each other.

"False," Kono ventured.

"True," Chin said.

"Okay, this question seems kind of odd to me," Catherine said and tapped her cards against her bent knee. "Because how do you define a color not found in nature? Not many animals are purple, but you still find purple in nature. Purple fruit, purple flowers, purple skies."

"You've got some purple in your scales," Steve pointed out.

"Exactly."

"What does it say, Monkey?" Danny deferred to the game master.

"False," Grace said.

A chorus of complaints went up while Kono laughed and collected her card.

"Hold on, hold on." Danny held his hands up for quiet. "No joke, just the other day Steve and I met a guy who had pink scales. And I'm not talking a powder pink, or an albino pink, or a fleshy pink, I'm talking about fuchsia. That is a color you don't typically find in nature, am I right?"

"I've seen some pretty bright flowers," Grace said.

"I have a feeling the card's talking about average dragons, guys," Kono said. "That guy you met was probably an oddball."

"Just like that Rhino guy from the Wyvern competitions. Solid black isn't a common color on dragons," Danny said. He waved a hand around. "Scales are usually more varied, at the very least two-toned."

Grace glanced around at them. "I wonder who has the most colors on their scales in this room?"

Almost immediately all six of them had their forearms over the coffee table with scales flashing to the fore. The difference in colors and scale texture was amazing, if Danny did say so himself.

"Cath has got blue with a purple shimmer on hers," he said. He looked to his left. "And Chin's got bronze with some black edging. Kono's got tawny and amber scales. Steve's every shade of teal. Grace is auburn and gold. And I'm every shade of brown."

"With cinnamon and gold," Grace added.

"Yeah, Danno, don't forget the cinnamon and gold," Steve echoed.

"Oh, shut up. Let's keep playing."

Chin took over reading so Grace could play against Cath. Danny looked around at his teammates, some of them still displaying scales on their forearms in complete security. It still astounded him to this day that he'd managed to wind up on a team where everyone else was a dragon or a mixed blood. More than that, he'd wound up with people where he felt safe enough to let his daughter show off her scales.

It was a strange blessing he wouldn't trade for anything.

* * *

Mauna walked upstairs when she wasn't immediately greeted by her housemate upon her coming home from her first shift back after nearly being killed. Or at least threatened by a man willing to kill. Pablo had come closer to killing Noodle than he had come closer to killing her in all honesty.

She tapped her knuckles on his closed bedroom door.

"Hey, you want Indian for dinner?"

"What's Dindin?"

"Indian, not Dindin, you dork." She pushed open his door.

His room upon first glance was a cluttered disaster. Upon further inspection, it was actually not cluttered, but full of plants and shelves with well-kept knickknacks. There was a defined trail through it to the hammock in the back corner and to the aquarium where he was standing tending to his hermit crabs at the moment.

"You mean Dindin's not an Indian spin on dim sum?" he looked up at her with a crooked smile.

She crossed her arms.

He set the small plate of freshly prepared food down into the tank for his five crabs to eat on. After shutting the lid to make sure none of them escaped again, he snaked through his many leafy green plants towards her. Even in dragon form he was barely eye level with her. It was his length that was impressive. Noodle was an apt nickname.

"You want Indian or are you set on Dindin now?" she asked.

Noodle tilted his serpentine head and scratched behind the pale slender horns. "Butter lamb. Mild. Garlic naan."

She nodded and headed back for the stairs.

"You know, we should do Greek tomorrow night," Noodle said as he followed her.

He made for an odd spectacle coming down the stairs with his long body and shorter legs. A yellowish-green scaled Serpent with bright orange eyes, he was quite the contrast when seen next to the bloody red rugged scales of Mauna. If he was ever seen next to them.

"I'm in the mood for some baclava," he said.

Mauna grabbed her phone off the counter. "You're always in the mood for everything. If it's edible, you'll eat it."

"Not liver."

"Or mushrooms?" She perked a brow at him.

He scowled. "And definitely not mushrooms anymore, thank you very much."

* * *

Luke hadn't even spotted his wife Morgan yet in the airport when a short person collided with his legs. Thankfully he knew who the short person was and hadn't been accosted by a troll.

"Dada!" The two-year old made grabby hands up at him.

"Hey, Briar," Luke said. He grimaced as he started to bend to pick her up.

Graham stepped in and scooped her up in one arm, much to Luke's relief. He cupped his daughter's cheek with the hand not in a sling. She giggled and hid her face in his friend's shoulder as he kissed her cheek.

Out of the crowd came a woman with skin naturally a rosy beige and long black hair draped down her back. Shorter than Luke by a good six inches, she had to stand up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips.

Then she slapped the heel of her palm against his shoulder.

"Ow!" Luke yelped.

"'Don't worry, Hawaii's safe, Morgan.' You can't even go to a tourist trap without getting hurt," Morgan said.

"We weren't in a tourist trap," Luke said.

"Yeah. The hurricane had scared all the people with more than two brain cells away," Graham unhelpfully added.

Luke shot him a face that plainly read 'shut up'.

Morgan rolled her eyes. Luke was sure none of it was news to her. After years of being married to him, she was used to his less than stellar decision making when it came to his trips.

After picking up their bags from the ever late carousel, Graham managing to carry both duffle bags after Morgan settled Briar on her hip, they followed her out into the underground parking garage. A chilly humidity was in the air unlike the sticky warmth of Hawaii. Not that they'd had much warmth while they were there. It had rained most of the time.

Graham folded himself into the back of the Rav behind the driver's seat.

"You coming home with us, Graham, or is Sato picking you up?" Morgan asked as she pulled out of the parking space.

"Would it be an inconvenience if I stayed with you tonight and Sato came tomorrow?" Graham asked.

Morgan shook her head. "Already have the spare bed made."

Luke grimaced and shifted uncomfortably as they drove in the misting rain. Sitting for that many hours on a plane with cracked ribs hadn't been a dream. At least the Rav was high enough so he didn't have to worry about trying to climb out of it whenever they got to his house.

"We have any Fire Root still?" he asked.

Morgan grunted. "I picked some up from the market yesterday."

"They're going to think you have an addiction problem with how much you buy," Graham chuckled.

"I know," she said. "Aluki doesn't even bother asking anymore. She just hands it over."

"I'm sorry I'm so accident prone," Luke apologized. He combed his hair back and braced his right elbow on the door. "At least it isn't as bad as it has been before. The ribs and arm should heal up pretty quick."

"I don't know what I would do if you were a human," Morgan said.

"You'd probably be looking for a new husband by now, 'cause I'd be dead," Luke said.

"Nuh uh. I'm not training another one. Barely got this one broke in."

Graham snorted and Luke grinned fondly.

* * *

"Parker, where are you?" Eliot barked as he raced up the stairs to the roof with security guards pursuing him from barely a floor down.

" _Hanging off the edge of the roof. Where are you?"_

"Three floors away," he said.

Nate's voice cut in. " _The bottom of the building is locked down. You guys are going to have to make the jump to the safe zone."_

"Sophie?" Eliot asked. He'd bull his way back into the building if the grifter needed a way out. It wasn't ideal, but he'd do it.

" _I got out clean. It's you lot that's in trouble."_

"Parker, you're going to have to take Hardison," Eliot said.

"No way, man. I've gone gliding with her and it ain't cool." Hardison kept a steady pace ahead of him, shoes squeaking with every turn on the landings.

"At least you ain't driving with her. Move, move!" Eliot growled and gave him a firm shove up the last few steps.

The night air was hazy with fog. Pinpoints of light from the city glowed like mysterious orbs around them, the only indications of where the buildings were. Perfect cover for them to escape.

"Over here!"

Eliot pulled his belt off and looped it around the door handle and the gutter pipe coming off the small roof of the stairway exit. After making sure it was cinched tight, he followed Hardison to the edge of the building where Parker had signaled her location.

"I love y'all, but y'all are nuts," Hardison said as he stepped up onto the ledge.

Parker helped him down onto her back. He wrapped his arms around her neck, still muttering about the insanity of their most recent con.

"Go. I'm right behind you," Eliot instructed, already stripping off his shirt.

Parker nodded once and let go the ledge. There was a muffled yelp from Hardison, and then nothing but the ambient sounds of a city shrouded in fog. With her silvery blues, the Arboreal vanished like a ghost in no time.

The door behind him kicked open.

Not giving the guards a chance to get close, Eliot launched himself over the edge. His darker colors helped him blend into the night. The guards were left on the roof in a state of confusion.

" _Eliot?"_ Nate's voice crackled in his ear.

"We're good."

" _Rendezvous in ten. Don't bother shifting, just get on the boat. We don't need to stay in the city."_

Eliot smirked. There was a certain advantage to working on a team where the leader knew how to accommodate for dragons.

* * *

"What do you mean you've never been cliff diving, McWeaniePants?"

"Because I prefer my nose to remain intact."

"Oh, come on. You're an Amphibian. You were born to play in the water."

"Dragons can break bones doing stupid stuff, too, Tony."

"Yes, but dragons are far more resilient to fractures and breaks, are they not?"

Gibbs had heard more conversation from his team than he cared to on their drive out to their crime scene in the boondocks. Normally, it would have been someone else's problem, but it was the third in a series of incidents tied to one of their current cases. Thus, he'd found himself driving a car with Ziva riding shotgun and the other two in back.

"I've gone cliff diving and I haven't broken anything," Tony said. "And I'm only partially dragon. You should give it a try sometime. Come out of your shell."

"What's it to you if I don't like activities that might possibly maim or kill me?" McGee questioned.

"Perhaps cliff diving is not the appropriate lobby for you," Ziva said.

"Hobby," Tony and McGee corrected.

"Hobby," Ziva rolled the word around her mouth. "A better _hobby_ might be swimming underwater. Amphibians have clear eye shields, correct?"

"Nictitating membranes, and yes, I do have those. But the water everywhere around D.C. is not something I'd want to swim in. And it's not exactly something you can do in a pool," McGee said.

"Not unless you want someone to start screaming about the Loch Ness Monster," Tony conceded.

"McGee is not as darkly colored as the Loch Ness Monster," Ziva said. She was turned in her seat to better join the conversation. "He is more beach colored."

"You mean he's a brown and blue? Sounds like a color palette for a kitchen," Tony teased.

"Hey. My scales are sandy rose and duck blue," McGee defended. "Unlike someone I know who has periwinkle scales."

Tony held up a forearm with a patch of scales clearly visible. "They're not periwinkle, they're a grayish purple, and they're beautiful in the right light. Look at them catching the sunlight right now."

"Ziva has prettier scales than you," McGee said.

"Thank you, McGee." Ziva displayed a patch of scales going from her hand to her elbow. They ranged in various shades from pale peach to a warm cocoa, all swirled together on denser, more angular scales than what McGee or Tony possessed. "Thankfully, they are also functional and not merely for decoration."

"Like Tony's."

As the conversation heated up once again, Gibbs remained silent and simply smirked. How he'd wound up with a team of dragon blooded people in one way or another, he wasn't sure. They chalked it up to him simply having sensed it, and he wasn't eager to correct them.

He'd maintain the mystery of his abilities and of his own scales.

* * *

Eric went to his contacts and selected a name. It rang through three times before the line picked up.

" _Jessa's crematorium. You kill 'em, we grill 'em."_

"Are you okay?" Eric asked. He cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear as he poured two cups of coffee from his mom's coffee pot.

" _Physically or mentally?"_

"Both, I guess," he said. She didn't sound dead, so that was a starting point.

" _Well, then, I'm physically stuffed and mentally fine. Yourself?"_

Eric carried both cups into the living room, setting one down by his mom and taking the other to his bedroom with him. Textbooks and papers were scattered all over his desk. He pushed a pile aside to make room.

"Working on an essay for one of my classes. I think I can feel my brain leaking out of my ear, you know?"

" _Hey, ya better than me, mate. I didn't even do college. Probably shoulda done."_

"Guess you don't need a paper saying you're qualified to do extreme sports, huh?" he said. He put it on speaker and set it on top of a stack of books. "I saw your wipeout on Instagram. That's why I called you."

" _That was my own bloody fault. I didn't time it right and got fouled up in an updraft."_

"But you're okay? Looks like you hit the water pretty hard." From the video, he'd been concerned about the awkward angle her wing had bent up.

" _A bit stiff, but I reckon I'll survive."_

He sighed a little breath of relief. He wasn't sure why he'd been worried in the first place. She had lived through worse wrecks in her practice runs and trainings throughout the years, and even during the time he'd known her.

His phone dinged with a text.

" _I jus' sent ya a pic."_

"Ah, babe, what'd you do?" he asked.

" _Came in too low and scraped those scales right off my knee."_

He cringed. "I think I finally understand how my uncle feels. I'm going to have gray hairs before I'm thirty just from being your boyfriend."

" _Silver would look good on ya."_

Grinning, he leaned back in his chair and scanned the shelf above his desk. "You know what I found in Walmart last week?"

A beat of silence. " _No. Ya didn't, did ya?"_

"Oh, yeah. I did." He reached up and pulled the adjustable action figure off the shelf. "They only had one Monarch left. And now it gets to watch me do homework."

" _I've got a fleet of those toys at home. Bugs thinks it's utterly ridiculous that anyone would buy action figures of athletes."_

"Speaking of Bugs, he was in some of the pictures you posted on Monday. Where are you guys?" he asked, placing the fairly accurate figure back up on the shelf. It still cracked him up that his girlfriend had a toy modeled after her.

" _New Zealand right now. But I'm gonna be in the states in a month."_

Eric smiled. It would be nice to see her face-to-face again. "I can't wait."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Captain Grover reluctantly assists Five-0 with a raid that proves fruitless. If only it ended at that...**

 **Sorry for the meandering pointlessness of this chapter. I've been wanting to write something like this for a while, but it turned out more boring than I intended. Thank you for slogging through it, and I promise next week and the the following chapters should have some more zest to them. ;)**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	123. Fact 108

**It's short, but worth it. I think.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #108: Be nice, because your enemy today may be your friend tomorrow.**

 **Season: Late Season 4**

"Love you, baby. See you tonight." Grover ended the call to his wife and slid his phone back into his pocket.

"Sir, the van's loaded and we're good to go," Glenfield said.

"Alright. Move out," Grover ordered.

Had it been his personal choice, he would've absolutely refused to go on this raid and cited a litany of reasons why. As it was, it was his job as SWAT Captain to provide assistance to Five-0 no matter how much the elite taskforce got under his skin.

He'd thought that maybe he and McGarrett had reached some sort of even playing field after the debacle at Halloween, but almost immediately after their meeting at the diner, the whole team had pulled the most ridiculous of stunts.

Of course, at the time, he'd nearly felt guilty for telling McGarrett he was going to get one of his team members killed and then hearing that Williams had gotten shot a week later. He'd had a lot of sympathy for the man. Up until they revealed it had been a ruse to lure someone out of the woodwork. Then he'd wanted to strangle McGarrett and Williams both.

Since the whole faked death thing, he'd heard of numerous other incidents that were downright crazy. The person who ordered the hit on Williams showed up dead in his cell. A possible assassination attempt on the president was derailed. A multi-million dollar art piece went missing, Williams and a FBI agent were kidnapped, another FBI agent was arrested, and massive chunks of the Columbian and Yakuza gangs were taken in by Interpol. Someone tried to snipe a graffiti artist and McGarrett somehow intervened. Something to do with a Chinese satellite went down. A very rich business man was killed during a raid where a young dragon child was recovered.

And those were just the things he'd heard about or had been called in to clean up after Five-0 had run roughshod over the island.

Once they'd arrived at the location, he reluctantly coordinated with McGarrett, who was already there and arguing with his partner.

"You take your men on the east side. Danny and I will come up from the south, Chin and Kono will come in from the west, and Catherine is covering the north with HPD," McGarrett said.

The layout worked fine for Grover. He'd be in charge of his own men. So long as they didn't get too close to the trouble magnetized members of Five-0, they might survive.

Decked in full assault gear, sweating in the spring humidity and heat, he led his men into the parking garage.

While the entrances and exits were easier to control in a parking garage than in some other structures, the lack of cover was a two-sided coin. For one, bad guys didn't have anything to hide behind. On the flip side, if the bad guys started shooting, the good guys didn't have much to hide behind, either.

After clearing three floors of mostly empty lots, he came to the conclusion his worry about lack of cover was for naught. Nothing was happening here.

"Well, McGarrett, I expected at least a shady looking pigeon to appear, seeing as you dragged us out here and all," Grover said, letting his irritation rise above his honed instincts. "Are you sure you got the right address? Probably should've written it down."

"Maybe the time got moved up and we're late to the party," McGarrett said, largely ignoring him and addressing his team instead.

"Or maybe Dekker just wanted to waste our time," Kalakaua huffed.

Grover signaled for his men to clear out.

The Five-0 team turned to leave, but Grover wasn't done, yet.

"McGarrett. I want a few words with you."

The Commander shot him a steely glance, then waved his team off. Williams stayed behind with him while the cousins vanished outside.

"Look, we're sorry you guys got geared up for nothing, okay?" Williams said.

"Proper procedure is to vet tips from incarcerated criminals _before_ you call in a full assault team for a raid," Grover said. "Or did you miss that part in the handbook you haven't read?"

McGarrett glared. "Dekker's tips have been good before."

"So what're you telling me? He just so happened to give you a bum lead for laughs? Revenge? What?" he asked.

"We don't know why Dekker's lead didn't pan out. He's got nothing to gain and a lot to lose if he screws with us. No one died. No one even got shot this time. Count the blessings, huh?" Williams said with hands dancing everywhere.

He shook his head at them. "Next time, don't call me asking for backup."

"We won't," McGarrett snapped.

He stalked away with Williams on his heels.

Grover exhaled heavily and turned to take a different exit. If he had any hair, it would've started turning gray and falling out from his short stint here in Hawaii. Paradise his foot.

The ground jolted under him. A concussive wave hit him from behind, throwing him to the ground. With a massive boom and deep groaning, the parking garage collapsed.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", it's the long awaited rewrite of Blood Brothers.**

 **Oh boy. I've had this one requested and it sure took me a long time to drag my feet to this point, but now I'm gonna do it. I'm rewriting one of my favorite episodes. And it will definitely be a rewrite.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	124. Fact 109

**Here it is! Some points are different than the episode, so keep that in mind.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #109: Dragons can take a hit, but dropping a building on them is a bit extreme.**

 **Season: "Ku I Ka Pili Koko", Episode 19, Season 4**

Steve woke up choking on dust.

After the initial coughing fit ceased, the pain hit like a rogue wave washing over unsuspecting tourists. And he was certain that his adrenaline was taking the edge off of the worst of it.

He opened his eyes. The clear nictitating membrane slid across to shield from the still settling dust. This looked like the supply closet where the man had been. The rack that once held supplies on it was across his midsection now and chunks of concrete rose up like jagged teeth all around him.

Bomb. As soon as he'd heard the word, he'd started to shift and usher Danny out of the closet.

Danny.

"Danny?" Was that his voice, so quiet and dry? He cleared his throat and lifted his head up, horns catching on a length of rebar momentarily. "Danny? Danny?!"

Other than the low imperceptible groan of the building, the plinking of a busted water pipe nearby, and his own harsh breathing, it was silent.

"Danno," he whispered.

Baring his teeth, he rolled onto his side, shoving the supply rack off as he did. Dragons weren't meant to be on their backs. Their anatomy just didn't work for reclining in that position. And instead of relieving the tension from being in that awkward position, the roll proved troublesome. Biting down hard to keep a yell from escaping, he pushed his front half upright.

"Damn it," he muttered.

His right hindleg was pinned. A piece of rebar had pierced through the softer, fleshy part where his leg joined his body. Fresh blood welled around the wound, mixing and turning into a dark sludge with the dust.

He grasped the rebar with a webbed forefoot. He'd have to figure out how to lift his hips another four feet in the air to pull himself off of it. Or he could yank himself free. The rebar had gone through a nonvital section. It was mostly skin and fat, little muscle, and no bone. He'd rip a six inch tear doing it. But he needed to find his partner.

* * *

The first thing he heard was coughing. It was muffled and fuzzy in his ears. The gray edged his vision again, then the next thing he knew he was waking up in a full panic.

He couldn't breathe.

Danny scrambled for purchase on the chunk of concrete on his chest. He was on his back, which made him all the more grateful for not fully shifting when the building came down. His wings might've been crushed in this position.

Veins pumped full of claustrophobia and the adrenaline that came from intense situations and from partially shifting, he heaved the concrete off himself.

Breathe. Breathe. In and out. In and out. Calm down. He could breathe now. The air was stagnant and thick with debris, but he could breathe. And now that he could breathe, he realized everything hurt.

He braced himself on his elbow and sat up slowly. He bit down on one of his foreclaws.

"Danny? Danny?"

Steve. Steve was still alive.

"Steve?" He coughed and squinted through the haze. "Steve? Where are you?"

"Over here. Are you okay?"

Through the dust in the air he could see the shape of a dragon sitting up in the opposite corner of the room. How had he wound up way over there? He'd been on his heels when they'd tried to bolt away from the supply closet.

"Hey, Danno, are you still with me?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said. He wiped a partially scaled hand over his face. "I'm just peachy. You know how much I love small, enclosed spaces."

"I know, man. I'm sorry. Can you move?"

Danny glanced down at himself. The main source of his pain currently was the small length of rebar impaled in his abdomen. It wasn't attached to anything, meaning he could move without removing it, which was a big no-no anyway. He just wasn't sure how deep it was in.

He ripped off his tac vest and lifted up his shirt. Armored plates had protected him from most of the debris. By just having his scales out he had probably saved himself a lot of damage. This particular piece of rebar was an issue only because it had managed to go in at an angle between two belly plates.

"Can I move? Yes. Do I want to move? Not really. I've got a hunk of metal lodged under the plates on my stomach."

"How bad?"

"Well, I'm no doctor, but I don't want to test how deep it is."

"Is it bleeding heavy?"

"No. The rebar's plugging the hole and I have no urge to pull it out and have my innards drain out."

"Leave it in. Can you get over to me?"

That gave him pause. "Why? What's wrong, Steven? Are you hurt?"

The non-answer wasn't comforting.

"Hey, tell me what's wrong, you Neanderthal. Do I need to be looking for one of your legs in this rubble or start figuring out what kind of flowers to set up at your funeral?"

"I'm stuck."

Danny grunted. He hooked his claws under the lip of a chunk of concrete leaning on one of his legs. The pins and needles that crawled through his thigh when he finally pulled loose would've sent him crawling up the wall on a normal day, but now he had a mission. With his mind zeroed in on finding his partner, he could put the claustrophobia, the brief flashes of being chained in a dark shipping container, and the pain to the side.

Get to Steve. Ignore the pain. Get to Steve. Ignore the precarious beams tangled overhead. Get to Steve. Ignore the cloudy and dimly lit darkness. Get to Steve. Ignore the ghost feeling of a shackle on his ankle. Get to Steve. Get to Steve. Get to Steve.

He almost tripped over Steve's tail.

"Of course, you had to go full dragon in this tiny space," he commented, waving half-heartedly with the hand not guarding the impaled rebar.

"Don't start."

Letting it go, he looked up at his partner's head hovering in the dim lighting. "How're you stuck?"

Steve moved his left hindleg out of the way with a hiss.

Danny's heart leapt into his throat. "Jeez, Steve, are you freaking kidding me? You couldn't get stabbed with a little piece of rebar? You had to get stuck on the longest one ever?"

Steve scowled at him. "It's just a flesh wound. But I need you to bite through it."

"It's just a flesh wound, he says." Danny ran his still shifted claws through his thoroughly messed up hair. "You don't think it's better to wait for rescuers to find us and for the professionals to free you?"

"I want to be mobile if the building falls in some more."

"Great. Thanks for that horrifying thought. I hope I don't move this rebar around too much when I shift and scramble one of my organs. Okay, don't move, got it? I'm not sure how I'm going to get in here."

There was no way he wanted to pull a full shift with a piece of metal stuck in such a sensitive spot. Holding a half-shift was no easy task and put a lot of strain on the body, especially an upper half half-shift. He'd have to move fast.

"Just remember that nose horn and those teeth are going to be close to a vulnerable area, Danno," Steve said.

"And if you ever tell anyone I got my head this close to your crotch, I will kill you," Danny snapped.

He braced one hand on the concrete slab next to Steve and held onto the top part of the rebar with the other. His heart thundered in his ribcage and a cold sweat broke out on his skin as he shifted just enough to get his beak and teeth out. Everything in his body told him to either go all the way or go back to human, don't linger in limbo.

Pushing past the awkwardness, he got his teeth as low on the rebar as he could without catching Steve's hide. The massive molars in the back of his mouth sunk into the metal.

He didn't have nearly as much power behind a bite in this half-shifted form. With a growl, he clamped down harder. It wasn't giving.

The primal dislike of being in two states at the same time reared its ugly head. Forgoing his own safety in favor of freeing his partner, he gave over to the instinct and shifted fully.

"Danny, don't!"

With the proper muscles backing up his bite now, he sheared through the rebar like bamboo.

He stumbled back and tossed the rebar off to the side. Sitting slumped on the rough sea of concrete slabs, he turned his eyes down to his abdomen. The rebar had dislodged and blood webbed out from between the two belly plates.

Steve pulled himself off the shortened rebar and limped over to him.

"Danny," Steve sighed and shook his head.

He glanced at him. "Let's just get out of here, huh?"

* * *

Kono floated above his head. Strike that. There were two Konos. Maybe three. Their voices echoed oddly in his ringing ears. Like he was floating underwater with only the muted percussion of the ocean and the tickling of bubbles penetrating his brain.

"Chin. Chin!"

The three sharpened into one and her voice finally pierced through the fog in his mind.

Slowly, Chin sat up. Kono grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet, chunks of concrete shifting underneath them. The world came back into high definition complete with surround sound, the wail of firetrucks, ambulances, and police sirens mingling with the dust motes hanging in the air.

He turned. Was that the parking garage? It looked like someone had kicked the corner out of a sandcastle in anger.

"Chin."

Kono was gently shaking his shoulder.

"Chin, Steve and Danny are under there."

"What?" He whipped his head around and wished he hadn't. The ground swayed.

"Woah, easy there, cuz. You need to let EMS look at you," Kono said, already pushing him toward an ambulance.

"I'm fine. What's the count so far? Are you sure they're under there?" he asked.

Kono glanced over at the first responders checking over the rubble, Catherine among them. "No bodies recovered. They're not answering their phones and no one's seen them, so we're assuming they're stuck under there."

Chin pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead. "Coordinate with rescue while I'm checked out."

She nodded. Ruffling her fingers through her hair and sending a shower of dust raining down, she glanced at the bomb site. "Do you think this was Dekker?"

He sighed and sat on the bumper of the ambulance. "Maybe. He's a good place to start."

Kono cursed under her breath, something unintelligible Chin wasn't sure he even wanted clarified. As the paramedic began to examine him, and darn it if she didn't look familiar, a SWAT officer approached them.

"Glenfield, right?" Kono asked.

"Yes, ma'am. I heard McGarrett and Williams are trapped as well?"

"As well?" Chin asked.

The square-jawed man gave them a grim look. "Captain Grover is under there, too."

Kono set her hands on her hips and looked up at the sky. "Man. I hope he's not trapped with our boys."

Glenfield surprisingly gave a curt nod. "They may kill each other before rescuers have a chance to get to them."

* * *

Allowing his Navy SEAL training to take over, Steve worked through his own pain to make sure his partner wasn't going to bleed out before starting to look for an exit. It didn't take him long to come to a bleak conclusion.

"We're not getting out of here."

"Huh? Come again?"

He winced, realizing the sentence he'd meant to mutter had been picked up by Danny. Carefully picking his way back over to him, mindful of the hidden shards of metal and sharp concrete, he started to make a game plan of how to handle his partner if he went down the rabbit hole.

"There's no way out," he said.

Danny stared at him in bewilderment. "Well, then, we'll start moving stuff."

Steve placed a forefoot on his shoulder to keep him seated. "No. It's a giant Jenga tower. We pull one wrong piece and we could bring the rest of the building down on us."

One of Danny's wings fluttered up, the leading edge brushing the heavy ceiling barely above Steve's head. In the dim lighting he could see the panic in the pale blue eyes and hear the labored breathing.

"Hey, it'll be okay. Rescue will be here by now. In the meantime, just make some noise," Steve said. He grabbed the rebar that had been impaled in him and whacked it against what might have been a still vertical ventilation shaft.

The thunderous bang startled Danny out of his haze. "Hey, woah, what happened to moving one wrong piece and the whole things comes down on us? I'd rather die not crushed by the next level of the parking garage, thanks."

"You're not going to die," Steve said. "They'll be listening for sounds of life so they know where to dig."

Danny heaved himself up with a grunt. He glanced around and racked his knuckles on the nearest metal pipe, the dense scales giving enough of a clang to be a viable option. "The sound of my life is the Looney Tunes theme."

"Only if I get to be Bugs Bunny," Steve said and whacked the shaft again.

"Nuh uh. I'm Bugs. Brooklyn is closer to Jersey than to Honolulu. You get to be Taz, leaving destruction in your wake everywhere you go."

Steve frowned. He was unable to see his partner's face in the dusty dark. "Are you implying this was my fault?"

"What? No. Not unless I find a blasting cap that has the initials S.M. on them," Danny huffed. "I'm just saying that you tend to go through walls instead of around them, and harass poor Bugs."

"I think Bugs instigates a lot of the conflict," Steve said and resumed whacking on the shaft.

"Are you saying I'm an instigator?"

"If the shoe fits, Danno."

"I'm not the one locked in some sort of pissing contest with Grover."

Steve paused. "I don't think he was out of the building when it blew."

Danny lifted a loosely folded wing to look at him over his shoulder. "You think he survived, too?"

Steve whacked the shaft again and dented both it and the rebar. He didn't like the man, but he didn't wish him dead. "I don't know."

Danny sighed. "Freaking Murphy's Law."

Steve couldn't agree more.

* * *

Kono joined Cath on the rubble heap.

"Anything?"

Cath shook her head. She was keeping it together remarkably well considering it was her boyfriend under the concrete, but Kono could see the worry etched in the lines of her face.

"Apparently, Captain Grover didn't get out of the building in time, either," Kono said.

Cath looked up. "He has a wife and kids, doesn't he?"

Kono shrugged. She ashamedly admitted that she didn't know.

"Should we let them know or wait until we find out for sure what happened to him?" she asked.

Kono eyed the news vans clustering on the other side of the yellow police tape. No details had been given out. No names had been given out. It had better stay that way or she was going to tan some young rookie's hide.

"No news is good news, I guess," she said. She wasn't ready for the call to fall on her. With Steve and Danny buried, and Chin currently out of commission, she was the next senior member in line to make decisions. She didn't like it.

"Okay." Cath went back to what she was doing with the headset and the mic. "We're going to start sweeping for sounds. Steve will know to start making as much noise as possible."

"Think they're too far down for the Arboreal to scent?" Kono asked, nodding her head towards the dragon standing amongst the other rescuers on the other side of the rubble.

She knew for a fact that some rescue teams had Arboreals and Serpents on them to scent out people buried under collapsed buildings or track down lost hikers in the woods. The one on the premises was low to the ground with a gecko like stance, identifiable as a rescue member by the custom vest. Currently, the dragon was talking with the other rescue members and the fire chief, gesturing to the rubble every so often.

"If they were on the floor where you guys left them, then yes. They're probably too deep to scent," Cath said. "But, if we can figure out where they are with the mics, we can get a relay closer to them and make contact via cellphone."

She nodded. Maybe they should take a search and rescue course at some point to get a better understanding of the tools available and the proper procedures involved so this wasn't out of her depth anymore. She'd talk to Steve about it, because there was no way he wasn't coming out of the ground alive with Danny equally alive in tow.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Chin approaching.

"How's the head, cuz?"

He touched the bruised knot lightly. "Ramona thinks I might have a slight concussion, but without a head scan can't be sure."

"You should go to the hospital," Kono said.

"Later. Me and you have a date with Dekker."

* * *

Danny had given up beating on the pipe. He slumped against the slabs of concrete, tired and hot and in pain.

"If you had one thing to do over again, what would it be?"

Steve stopped his pounding to turn and look at him. "Is this your end of life question? Because you're not going to die."

"Shut up, Steven. It helps me not focus on these walls closing in or on the fact I was impaled. And you don't know we're not going to die. You're just banging on a pipe in some mad hope someone hears you through several tons of concrete."

Steve made a sound somewhere between a huff and a growl, and resumed banging. "What was the question, again?"

"One thing to do over. What would it be?"

There was a muffled response.

Danny lifted his brows and flared one wing up. "Hey, hey! I heard that. Not getting stuck under this building with me is not an option."

"What do you want me to say, Danno?" Steve asked between resounding clangs on the shaft.

"I don't know. You don't have one regret in your life? Everything's been perfect up 'til now?" he questioned. He coughed on the dust and snorted, groaning as that small action jarred everything.

"What's yours?"

"Mine?"

"Yeah. What would you do over?"

Danny stared down at the ground. He traced his claws through the dust that had settled on everything. "My whole life could be up for grabs. Except for Grace. I'll never regret having Grace."

"Or meeting me?"

"Oh, no. I regret that every day."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." He smoothed away the trails in the dust. "I don't know, babe. I think I would try harder with Rachel or something. You know when I got married and we were saying our vows, all I could picture was the day she was going to serve me divorce papers."

"Seriously?"

"Dead serious. But it wasn't a new thought, you know? Since I was a kid, I would always imagine the worst possible scenario. My mom and dad would go out for dinner and be a little late coming home, and I would immediately think that they'd been in a horrible accident. I'd pray to God and tell him he could take my dad, but not my mom, because I couldn't live without my mom."

Steve looked back at him again, but with a more sober expression. "You know, there are ways to help with anxiety like that."

"I know," he said, nodding to himself. "Honestly, I had gotten better when I got out of my teen years. Sure, I had moments while I was training for the force and in my first months out on the job, but I could handle them better than when I was a kid. And then when Rachel left, it went downhill again. She moved out here and I was paralyzed. Matty told me to move out here, but I couldn't get around the sheer panic of uprooting from my home to somewhere I'd never even visited before."

"And then Shamrock got you transferred."

"Right. She got me riled up enough that the anger at Rachel for just spiriting my daughter away to a floating rock in the middle of the ocean overshadowed the anxiety."

Steve followed a narrow path through the destruction over to him. He slumped against the slabs opposite him.

"I would have called my dad one more time," Steve said quietly.

Danny held his tongue, knowing it was a rare moment for his stoic partner to open up.

"When he shipped me and Mary off, our relationship soured," Steve continued. He frowned at the ground. "We didn't talk much after that."

"At least you found out he didn't want you guys on the island for a good reason," he said.

Steve tipped his head in agreement.

Danny narrowed his eyes. He pointed. "You snapped one of your horns."

"I what?" Steve reached up and ran his forefoot along the longest pair of horns. A couple inches had busted off the one on the right. "Could've been worse."

"You could've lost the entire horn and been a unicorn."

"Shut up, Danno."

They both froze as a phone rang.

"Whose phone is that? Whose phone is that?" Danny questioned, scrambling upright and looking all over the ground. "Quick, get it before whatever miracle signal we got goes away."

"I've got it!" Steve shoved the supply rack out of the way and reached between two concrete slabs that had missed his phone by mere centimeters.

Danny held his breath as Steve blew the dust off it and awkwardly slid his pinkie across the cracked screen.

" _Steve? Steve?"_

He deflated and sagged against the slabs, legs shaking and heart pounding in his ears.

"Catherine?" Steve asked.

" _Oh my god, Steve! You're still alive. Is Danny with you?"_

"Present," Danny said.

There was a muffled relieved sob. " _We finally got a relay close enough."_

"How'd you know where we are?" Steve asked.

" _We heard the banging."_

Steve gave Danny a look that clearly read 'I told you so'. Danny stuck forked tongue tips out at him.

"How's it looking up there? Any other casualties?"

" _You two, and Captain Grover is missing."_

They nodded. They had figured as much.

"And the poor schmuck that was bait," Danny said. He pointed to the nearly completely concealed body in what used to be the center of the closet.

" _What happened guys?"_

Steve puffed out a breath. "Danny and I heard some noise coming from a supply closet on our way out. A man had been beaten and tied up in there. He managed to warn us, but not by much. There was a bomb planted somewhere in the garage."

" _Well, Chin and Kono just left to go talk to Dekker."_

"You got an ETA on rescue? Not that I'm complaining about being stuck under hundreds of tons of concrete in the heat and darkness," Danny asked.

" _Rescuers are trying to get a better layout of the building, but from what I've heard so far, it's not good."_

Danny trembled. His wings folded in tighter. "Not good? That's not what I want to hear. These guys are professionals, right? They've dug people out of all kinds of rubble. Please tell me they at least have a plan."

" _Oh no, they have a plan. But it involves you guys moving to a different spot where they can dig without causing another collapse."_

Steve glanced around. "That might be difficult."

"That is the understatement of the year," Danny raised his voice. He swept his claws around in a wild gesture. "We are stuck in a concrete box. Not to mention, we're both a bit larger than usual."

" _Can't you shift down?"_

"And crawl through all this dirty, pointy stuff sans clothes? No, thank you," Danny snapped. His breath whined in his following exhale. Dragon healing could do wonders, but it couldn't remove all the pain nor could it repair a wound like magic.

Steve squinted toward the opposite side of their cave. "There might be a way out. We'll just have to be careful."

" _Steve, if you don't think you can safely get to another location–"_

"No. We can do it. We'll just go slow. Danny needs medical attention," Steve said.

Danny eyed his partner with the same concerned expression. "So does Steve. A few more inches to the left and he would've lost all ability to procreate, which may have saved the world some trouble. Can you imagine a bunch of miniature Steves running around?"

" _What? Are you okay?"_

"I'm fine, Cath. Just a flesh wound. Nothing I can't handle." Steve glared at Danny.

She sighed. " _We'll see about that when you make it back up to the surface. I'm going to give you the directions to the location they want you to move to. And Steve?"_

"Yeah?"

" _Keep an eye out for Captain Grover. His wife showed up a couple minutes ago."_

His head jerked in a tight nod. "Will do."

" _Okay, here's where you need to go…."_

* * *

Chin shook out his hand. The room swam in the edge of his vision, but it had been worth it.

"Sorry, that was rude," he said. He planted his hands on the table and stared Dekker down. "Should've let you finish talking first. Now, you want to tell me the truth?"

"I don't know nothin', man. Why would I want to blow up Five-0?" Dekker questioned, rubbing his jaw with Chin's right hook had landed.

"Revenge. We put you in jail," Kono said.

Dekker shook his head. "Look, my information is good. You guys must've gotten caught in a gang crossfire or somethin'."

"There were no gangs. There were no guns. It was a setup, and if you don't want me to get you sentenced to life here without parole, and if you don't want the other prisoners to find out you're a snitch, you better start talking." Chin needn't raise his voice. His hard as stone tone was threatening enough no matter what volume.

Kono excused herself to the back of the room when her phone rang.

"You know what they do to snitches?" Dekker asked.

"I don't really care," Chin said.

"If they find out I've been snitching, especially to Five-0, I'll be dead before lunch tomorrow. And the other guys I've been snitching to won't be too happy." Dekker sat back with a brow perked in challenge.

"The DEA isn't my problem. You're my problem."

"You know how many guys they've arrested, how many guns they've seized with my information? Enough to make it your problem."

Chin slammed his hand on the table. "Tell me where your information came from!"

"What?"

They glanced over at Kono. She lowered her voice and finished the conversation, tapping on her phone screen as she walked back over to the table. She set it directly in front of Dekker.

"You know who that is?" she asked.

Dekker scrunched his face and held the phone up the best he could with hands cuffed to the table. Chin's brows knitted together slightly as all the color drained out of Dekker's face. He put the phone back down with a clatter.

"What the hell happened?" Dekker asked, only a ghost of his previous self.

"Our guys found him beaten and tied up in a supply closet in the parking garage. He told them there was a bomb." Kono held the phone out to Chin.

His face eased a bit. "I may be completely wrong, Dekker, but you don't seem like the type of guy to use his own brother for bait."

Dekker balled his hands into fists, knuckles turning white and veins bulging from the strain. "He was everything I'm not. Honest, trustworthy, was just graduating from law school. When he found out I'd funded his schooling with my business, he flipped, man. Pretty much disowned me."

Chin remained quiet. He sensed they'd reached a tipping point.

"That's why I was trying to get out of here early. Wanted to do right by him, you know?" Dekker said.

"So whoever did this made it personal," Kono said. "Who would do that?"

Dekker shook his head. "I don't know."

Chin took a seat in the chair and folded his hands on the table. "Why did you give Five-0 this tip instead of the DEA?"

"My informant convinced me you guys could pull more strings than the other guys," Dekker answered. He shrugged. "His information's always been good."

"Who is it?"

His shoulders drooped. "His name's Spider."

"We should talk to him," Kono said.

Dekker waved them off with two fingers. "Nah. He's a lifer. You can't offer him anything or threaten him with anything."

Chin massaged his forehead, contemplating whether or not they should tear a page out of Steve's playbook when it came to creative interrogation techniques.

"But I can."

Chin looked at Dekker. "What?"

Dekker leaned forward. A new fire seemed to have possessed him. "I don't know what the hell he did, but whatever it was got my brother killed. Let me talk to him."

"You sure you can get the information from him?" Kono asked and crossed her arms.

Dekker smiled grimly. "Yeah."

* * *

For a moment that was longer than it should have been, he could reach out and touch a feathery whiteness. Warm. Soft. Inviting. Pain free. He wasn't sure what it was, but there was some vague discontent at being this close to it. Still, it seemed so peaceful.

Then he heard Renee's voice. Samantha's voice. Will's voice.

 _Don't go, baby. We need you here._

 _Daddy, I love you. Don't leave._

 _Dad, you gotta wake up._

Around him the whiteness faded to a tattered darkness, full of dust and the sticky heat. The pleasant softness turned to a gritty hardness and the weight of a building literally on top of him made itself known.

Grover was very much alive.

He sucked in a breath. Another. In vain.

Weakly lifting a hand, he felt around. A slab of concrete was crushing him. An immovable object. His fingers scrabbled at it. He could barely breathe, let alone muster any strength to shove it off.

Once. He'd been in an explosion once back in Chicago. At the time it had been the fire proceeding the boom that had been the problem, not hundreds of tons of debris sitting on top of him. He'd hauled two of his men out before the warehouse had gone completely up in flames with barely a scratch on him.

Grover closed his eyes, opting for small, controlled breaths instead of panicked ones. Do the checklist. Could he feel his feet? The scrape of his boots told him his legs were functioning, even if they were numb from being still so long. Torso? Pinned. Arms? Left one free, right one trapped and burning like someone had shoved a branding iron into his bicep. Neck and head? Neck not broken. Head pounding.

He licked his lips. No sound came out.

The plink-plink of dripping water and the clatter of debris settling filled his ears. How long had it been? Long enough for rescue to show up and start digging? Or only long enough for them to have been called and be on their way?

Blinking away the fuzzies creeping into his vision from the edges, he stared at the drab ceiling above him.

This deep into the building didn't bode well for rescue any time soon.

No sooner had he thought that than he heard a particularly loud clang. A scuffle of feet followed.

"…should've just waited…"

"…heard them, they can't reach…"

"…gonna bring the rest of the place in on us pulling pieces out like that…"

"…stop talking. Save your breath…"

Hope lit up in his chest.

Grover raised his free hand and coughed. No more than a whisper could get past his lips. _Come on, come on. Please don't walk right on by._

"Shh, shh."

"Don't shush me."

"I heard something."

"It's called a building getting ready to fall on us and turn us into pancakes."

The scuffling came closer. Closer. Then right above him, a slender face with a crown of equally slender horns hovered into view.

"McGarrett," Grover choked.

"Danny, I've got Grover. He's still alive."

McGarrett grabbed onto the concrete slab and inched it up. The tiny area made it difficult as did the sheer size of the slab.

"Not goin' to lie, this might hurt, Captain."

Was that Williams?

He yelled as he was pulled out from under the slab with as much care as one could employ while trying to work quickly. White filled his vision like static.

"Hey, you still with us?"

"Grover? Can you hear me?"

Grover clamped his hand over his burning bicep and focused on getting proper breaths despite his cracked and possibly broken ribs. "Yeah. I hear you."

"Well, what do we do now? Drag him with us or leave him here and tell rescue where to find him?"

"No way," Grover coughed. He braced his good elbow on a slab and pushed himself upright, squinting in the dim lighting. "You ain't leaving me."

There was a snorting huff. "Guess you're lucky our motto is a Navy SEAL motto."

"Leave no man behind," McGarrett said.

Grover frowned as he finally picked out the other shape in the darkness. He knew the slender Arboreal was McGarrett because he'd seen him that day in the jungle. But now he could see a horned snout and a stout neck in the direction of Williams' voice.

"You've gotta be kidding me," he muttered.

* * *

Dekker dropped a simple phone onto the metal table. He sat with a thump and rubbed his knuckles.

"You get him to talk?" Kono asked. She perked a brow.

"He ain't going to be talking for a while now, but he was kind enough to speak a few words with me," Dekker said.

Chin didn't bother asking. The bloody knuckles and the fact Spider was getting his jaw wired shut at the moment was enough information to go on. He was more fascinated with the phone.

"Dude said this showed up in his cell a while back at the same time a few grand showed up in his account. The voice at the other end of the phone gave him tips about gun and drug deals going down."

"But he couldn't use them because he's a lifer," Kono surmised.

"So he gave the tips to me in exchange for protection from some other guys he'd pissed off in here," Dekker said.

"Why did he tell you to tell us now instead of before?" Chin asked.

Dekker shrugged. "The voice on the other end told him to give this one to Five-0."

Kono scowled. "It was a setup for us."

"Who'd you guys piss off?" Dekker asked.

"More like who haven't we pissed off," Kono grunted.

"That's it?" Chin asked.

"That's it, man. He didn't know anymore. He would've told me if he did, trust me," Dekker said.

Chin stood up from the chair and started to head for the door.

"Hey."

He glanced over his shoulder at Dekker.

"For what it's worth, I hope you catch the guy."

* * *

"Steve." Danny paused.

Steve made a sound of acknowledgement.

"Grover's down for the count," Danny said.

Steve craned his head around from his current task of moving what might have been part of a support pillar.

Danny checked Grover's arm and the crappy makeshift bandage Steve had applied. In the bad lighting it looked black with blood.

"It's just blood loss. He'll be okay. We're almost there," Steve said, and returned to carefully pushing the massive concrete chunk.

"And what about you, huh? You're shaking worse than me," Danny said.

"I'm fine. Just dehydrated. And I've been doing all the heavy lifting."

Danny sighed.

The initial shock of adrenaline had worn off. Now he felt all his pains. The wound from the rebar in his abdomen was the most acute, coming and going with waves of nausea and intense bouts of rolling heatwaves that made his scales prickle. His knee hurt. By now it had become a background noise in the soundtrack of his life. His chest hurt. Maybe some ribs had cracked during the collapse.

His brain hurt. The swirling thoughts of being trapped and dying and never seeing his daughter again and the resurfacing memories of being on the ship in the dark with a shackle and a muzzle had drained him. He was too tired to try to fight it. Or even think about it.

He just wanted to sleep.

"Danny!"

He jerked up.

Steve stood above him, forefoot on his shoulder and eyes wide in the dim light.

"Wha'?" Danny asked.

"Don't fall asleep." Steve growled. The aggressive sound was merely to cover over his worry, Danny had known him long enough to recognize that.

"Did you get through?" he asked.

Steve shook his head. "I need your help."

Danny laughed as he struggled to his feet. "He needs my help. That's twice in one day. That's gotta be a record or something."

"Just shut up and help me move this," Steve said.

Danny braced his shoulder against the concrete slab. The top of his head brushed the ceiling and one side leaned ominously inward on them. He took a few deep breaths, swallowing and hoping he could keep his breakfast down.

"One, two, three."

He pushed while Steve pulled. They didn't want to dislodge it so much as swivel it like a revolving door. By this point, if they could get it open only enough for a man to get through, Danny would happily shift and crawl through butt naked without complaint. If daylight and fresh air was a guarantee on the other side, civility was no longer a deciding factor.

"Okay. Stop."

He slumped against the slab. Another wave of heat went from stoking chamber to tail tip with a tingle. His stomach churned.

"Hey, Steve?"

"Hm?" Steve sat back and looked at him.

"You know, I call you a Neanderthal and a bonehead and an ape and a putz a lot, and it's all true," Danny said. He breathed slowly through the nausea.

"And?"

"And what? That's it."

"No, it's not," Steve objected quietly.

"Oh?" Danny tilted his head to look over at him. "I guess if I'm going to die, I better say I love you one last time, huh?"

"You're not going to die," Steve said. "But I love you, too, buddy."

Danny cleared his throat. "Now that that's out of the way, let's try this one more time before my legs give out completely."

Steve cocked a grin. "Okay. One, two, three!"

* * *

Chin stepped out of the passenger seat of Kono's car and hurried as fast as he dared over to circle of people atop the pile of rubble. The heavy machinery had been moved back and a hole gaped in the ground with rigging around and above it.

"Did they make it?" Kono asked.

Cath nodded and wiped sweat from her brow. "Yeah. Sounds like Danny's not in great shape. And they found Captain Grover alive."

Chin's brows met his hairline. "Really?"

"But he's not good. EMS is waiting to take him directly to King's." Cath pointed toward the ambulance where the Captain's wife waited anxiously.

"Okay, he's harnessed in!"

They began to crank the cable up. Within ten seconds they could see a pale and limp Grover. Between the rescue team and the paramedics, they got him maneuvered onto a gurney and loaded into the ambulance in a blur, Renee's cries rising above the sound of everything else.

"Danny's coming up next."

A muffled conversation rose from the hole in the ground like bubbling from a mud pit. There was an audible and frustrated sigh.

"Cath, can you get my spare clothes out of the truck?"

The rescue team looked at them in confusion.

Cath, on the other hand, had been prepared for this possible situation. She had a stack of clothes on standby near her feet. She called a warning and dropped them down the hole.

A minute or two of shuffling later, the cable twitched like a fishing line and then pulled taut.

Chin was right there to grab Danny's arm as he was pulled out of the hole. He swung his arm over his shoulders while Cath detached him from the harness. Kono braced up his other side and helped him down to the second ambulance.

"Steve. Is Steve up?" Danny asked.

Chin sat him down on the bumper and Kono returned to the hole. Steve popped up a moment later.

"Yeah. He's up, and looking better than you," Chin said.

"Good."

Danny hissed as the paramedic stripped off his shirt. She shook her head at the bruising on his chest and the bloody wound low on his belly.

Chin rocked back on his heels with his arms crossed. "You've got quite the battle scar collection, brah."

Danny ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "You should see Steve."

"Should see me what?" Steve asked, limping over with Cath as a crutch.

"Should see you get stuck like a voodoo doll," Danny said.

Cath sat him on the bumper next to Danny. The second paramedic started examining him.

"Did you find out anything from Dekker?" Steve asked.

"His information came from an inmate named Spider. And Spider's information came from a burner phone," Chin explained. He took in his friends' dusty, bloody, bruised, and tired appearance with a solemn expression. "It was a setup for us."

"Who?" Steve questioned.

"Can't get a trace on the phone. Number's dead." Kono shook her head and placed her hands on her hips, glaring at the destruction all around them.

Danny groaned. "This is like me getting shot all over again. We'll have to start a running list and start combing through suspects."

Steve leaned his head back against the ambulance door. The pinched look on his face could've peeled paint.

Danny suddenly lurched ramrod straight, much to the paramedic's surprise and to his own if the way the color drained from his face was anything to go by.

"What time is it?"

"About fifteen hundred hours. Why?" Cath said.

"English, please."

"Three o'clock," Kono translated.

"Grace needs picked up from cheer practice at four. And I probably need to go to the hospital, right?" He looked at the paramedic.

She nodded firmly. "Yes. You definitely need to go to the hospital so they can thoroughly cleanse this wound and check for other internal injuries."

"Don't worry. I'll get her," Kono said and patted his shoulder.

He exhaled and sagged. "Thanks, babe."

"That's what _ohana_ 's for."

Not even a building getting dropped on half of the _ohana_ could break them up.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", a little recovery and some talk of explosives.**

 **Concerning missing/changed points in this retelling, Amber's not present because she's never been introduced into this series. I didn't care for her much and don't have plans on introducing her anytime soon if at all.**

 **I know in the ep it was the CIA guy who set up the whole thing to get rid of**

 **Steve before he found out too much about Doris and Wo Fat's dead mother. I wasn't a huge fan of the whole possible half-brother storyline and have kinda just fudged that whole storyline.**

 **Some of this stuff will be expanded later in the fic.**

 **Okay. Some good news and some bad news. Good news is that I'm going to England in October. Bad news is that "Dragons" is going to have to go on hiatus through most if not all of October. I just don't have enough of a backlog of chapters to post during that time and I won't have access to Internet most of the time. My relatives are old school. XD**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	125. Fact 110

**Some rest and pop tarts is what the doctor ordered. And some YouTube, too.**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #110: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.**

 **Season: Late Season 4**

Though he often complained how much his life was under the heavy hand of Murphy with his terrible laws, Danny was grateful for a few things. First and foremost was his daughter.

Saturdays were usually a time of going and doing things, whether that meant shopping, playing at a pool or the beach, hanging out with her friends, participating in extracurricular activities, or whatever else she deemed fun. Today, however, she had stated she would rather sit around the house with her still healing father rather than do errands with her mom.

Danny himself wasn't usually idle. Of course, he'd stay in his boxers and putter around the house on his rare days off, but he didn't sit for as long as he had been recently. He supposed he should just count his blessings that he had survived with as little damage as he had considering he'd had a building dropped on him.

"Do you have any homework to do, Monkey?" he asked.

He could hear Grace clanking around in the kitchen making lunch for herself. Normally, he'd do that. The puncture wound in his abdomen limited his mobility for now, though. Three days just wasn't enough time to fix it.

"I'll do it later," she said.

She appeared in the living room carrying a paper towel in one hand and a can of LaCroix in the other.

"Still can't believe your mother got you hooked on those," he teased and flapped a hand at her beverage of choice.

"Well, she doesn't like pop in the house, so this is the only bubbly thing I get," she said.

He raised a brow. "And what are you eating? Pop tarts?"

"I didn't want to make a sandwich," she defended.

He held his hands up in surrender. "Okay. Okay. Just give me a bite, will ya?"

"Not a shark bite, okay?" she said as she handed it over.

While the pop tart was in his hand, she leaned over and snatched the remotes. The channel changed from whatever game he was half-watching to YouTube.

"What're you streaming?" he asked and swiped his thumb across the corner of his mouth to dust off the crumbs.

"Lana showed me these guys. They're kinda funny," she said. She scrolled through her phone for a moment before finding the video she wanted and broadcasting it to the TV. "They're the guys that did the bacon song."

"Oh. Great. If I ever see one of these guys in person, I'm gonna punch 'em in the face for getting that stuck in my head," he said.

"Danno!"

* * *

 _Somewhere on the mainland…._

Marilyn Walker didn't stand out amongst the other women prisoners because of any physical attributes. Perhaps she was a little older than the average inmate, but by no means was she the largest or the meanest looking or the loudest.

Yet, her fellow inmates gave her the berth she deserved. The other fish in the ocean may not have been scared of the shark, but they knew enough to not go near the teeth.

Alone in her cell, reading a book from the prison library, she was not initially perturbed when a muffled ring came from under the mattress. A mild sense of curiosity was the only emotion she displayed when she found it wasn't her burner phone but a different one.

"Hello," she greeted quietly.

" _Good afternoon, Miss Walker."_

"Not many people leave phones in my cell," Marilyn said. She maintained her appearance of reading, keeping the book high enough to obscure the act of speaking on a phone. "You seem to know who I am. Who are you and what do you want?"

" _I saw your work in Hawaii a few days ago. It didn't exactly go according to plan, did it?"_

Marilyn stiffened. "I'm afraid I haven't had dealings with Hawaii in some time. You must have me confused with someone else."

" _There are far easier ways to remove people than organizing a convoluted hit, as you and your partner seem fond of doing. But, I would advise the next time you decide to kill someone with an explosion, put the devices with the bait. The concussive blast will do more damage than the debris."_

Her eyes narrowed and her brows knitted together in a weathered frown. "Who is this?"

" _You believe that Five-0 and the Dragons' Rights Division are responsible for taking down your operation, yes?"_

"Brick by brick they've taken apart that empire, you're correct," she said. Her knuckled whitened as the grip on her book tightened. "I've heard they've made great strides recently in dismantling it further."

" _Consider me a messenger sent to reveal a truth to you. Five-0 isn't responsible for locating your clients and turning the children over to the DRD. I am."_

"And what are you? A vigilante?" she asked. "Or are you calling to talk shop?"

" _I'm calling to let you know someone else is holding the chains to your beast now."_

"And what's to stop me from telling someone that a new player is running that little operation? There are still many secrets that could lay waste to the rest of it," she said.

" _I have the black book along with a simple warning."_

She shook her head slowly. "What warning?"

" _I've cut the heads off your beast. I can cut the head off its master, too."_

Casting a glance outside her cell, she put the book down and swung her legs off the bunk, hunching over with anger. "You're the one who ordered the hit on Mills."

" _And as you've seen, I have access to you."_

The cell phone in her hand was proof of that. Sweeping graying strands of hair from her face, she asked through gritted teeth, "What do you want?"

" _To tell you to be careful who you're swinging at in the dark. Some monsters have bigger teeth than others."_

Famous last words in Marilyn's experience. "Do I get to know who's threatening me, or am I to be left in the dark?"

" _My name is Shamrock."_

That sounded familiar. A bit gaudy, flashy. Mob? Maybe with that Irish lilt.

" _I'll let you get back to reading your Stephen King._ Slân leat _."_

The line went dead.

Marilyn stared at the novel sitting on the bunk next to her. A novel she had only picked up this morning. Her skin prickled at the threat.

"Good health to you, too," she muttered and stuffed the phone under her mattress. "While it lasts."

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Grace has gone down the YouTube rabbit hole and drags Danny and Steve along for the ride.**

 **Oh, and the guys Grace is watching on YouTube are Rhett and Link, real life internetainers. Seriously. They're super funny. I'd suggest watching the "My OCD" or "I'm on Vacation" music video. I get to go meet them in November.**

 **Thank you for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	126. Fact 111

**Sorry if this is more like a clip show, but I hope you still enjoy. ;)**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #111: Dragons can be a great source of entertainment.**

 **Season: Late Season 4**

"What're you even doing?" Danny questioned, finally looking away from the reports on his laptop.

Kono had volunteered to help him with a general tidy up of his house since the healing wound in his abdomen made bending and stretching difficult, thus rendering the entire process of cleaning a nightmare. Right now, though, she was not cleaning. She was standing in the kitchen with her phone and a cold beer next to her elbow.

"Huh?" she asked.

He flapped a hand at her. "You. What're you doing? While I'm thankful that you're here helping and realize you don't have to be, that doesn't look like putting dishes away."

"Relax, brah. Just taking a break." She smiled at him and went back to her screen.

"By playing Angry Birds?"

"Angry Birds: Dragon Fire edition," she corrected. "They replaced the birds with different dragons."

"And what're the pigs? Humans? Knights? Something else stereotypical?" he asked.

"Nope. Still pigs."

"Huh." He shook his head and set his fingers back on the keyboard, reluctantly going back to finishing off the third report in a line of many. "You know, Grace likes that game."

"Yep. She's the one who put it on my phone and got me hooked," Kono said. She turned her phone off, slid it into her back pocket, and finished off her beer.

"Alright, break's over. Back to work," Danny said.

"Why don't you crack that whip a little harder there, Taskmaster?"

Danny flicked his wrist and made a snap sound.

* * *

"Hey, Danno, wanna know somethin' cool?" Grace asked.

He glanced over at her. It was her last week of school before summer vacation, and it was his last day of taking her until next year. Thankfully, he'd been cleared to return to light duty, which included driving.

"Sure, Monkey. Tell me something cool," he said.

"You know that show I watch?"

"Ah, yes. That one. Because you only watch one show."

She sighed dramatically. "The one on Monday nights. With the archeologists."

"Oh. What's it called? _Time Flyers_ or something?"

" _Time Scrollers_ ," she said. "That one. You know Dustin?"

He pursed his lips and raised a brow. "The guy you think is cute?"

Red flushed her cheeks. "Yes. I mean, maybe. I mean, he's kinda cute, but – I don't really – ugh, can I just finish saying what I'm saying?"

"Yes. Sorry. Continue."

"Okay, you know when Dustin shifts into his dragon form and we always thought he was a dragon?"

"The character or the actor?"

"The actor. We always thought the actor was the dragon, too? Well, they're two different people."

Danny nodded. It definitely wasn't unheard of for movies and shows to use one actor to portray the human version of a character and for another to be the dragon, especially if they needed a specific type of dragon. Or they just used CGI with varying degrees of effectiveness.

"Casey Earl plays Dustin, and his sister Carol Earl plays Dustin as a Drake, because Casey isn't a full blooded dragon, he's a mixed blood," she explained. "But, they forgot to credit her in the first episode and that's why the show almost got cancelled, because people who knew they weren't the same person were angry."

They pulled around the block and hit the line of traffic to the drop off zone in front of the school. They still had a few minutes to talk.

"And, his sister Carol is actually a stunt woman," Grace continued. Her voice pitched up in her excitement. "You know how in that one show Kono watches with the zombies there's a scene where a dragon chases down a car and jumps on top of it? That was Carol. It wasn't CGI, it was real."

"And where did you learn all of this, huh? What's the sudden interest in dragon actors and actresses?" Danny asked.

"They played a game on Good Mythical Morning where they guessed whether the actor or actress was a dragon," she said and sat back in her seat. "I watched it last night."

"That's the show on YouTube with the two bacon guys?"

"Yeah."

"Do you watch any educational stuff on there? Not just dorks eating weird things for views?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes."

* * *

Grace knew that she couldn't go to Danno with this, nor Uncle Steve. Danno would get suspicious that they were up to something and then they'd get found out. No. She had to go to Uncle Chin.

Luckily, she had quick access to him.

School was out. She'd spent the night with her friend Lana and then had come to the office with Danno that afternoon. It was a catch up on paperwork day for them and she was bored out of her mind. Her mom had gone to visit Step Stan in Las Vegas and taken Charlie with her, but Grace had elected to not go. She had some cheer stuff going on and, though she didn't like it when her dad was injured, he'd been home more and they'd been able to hang out.

At the moment, he was typing and muttering to himself. She slipped out of his office pretty much unnoticed and went over to Chin's office. She knocked lightly on his glass door.

"Come on in, sista," he said.

She entered and flopped in one of the chairs facing his desk. "How's it going?"

He chuckled. "You bored?"

She nodded. "Don't tell Danno, but I kinda wanted to be a cop, but not now after seeing all the papers you guys have to fill out."

Chin closed his laptop and leaned back in his swivel chair. "It's not that bad if you keep on top of it."

She nodded again and set her phone on her knee, now debating whether or not to ask him.

"You change any of your dad's ringtones again?" he asked.

She grinned. "He's still convinced Uncle Steve did it last time."

"Oh, I know. Danny won't leave his phone alone in his presence, now," he said with a laugh.

Feeling more at ease with the shared secret of who had really changed Danno's ringtones, she stood up. Walking around the desk, she pulled up the video she wanted and held it up for Chin to see.

"You think we can try that?" she asked.

He glanced around conspiratorially. "I don't see why not."

She smiled broadly. Danno had wanted her to watch something educational. Setting something on fire was educational, right?

* * *

"Hey, Danno!"

Danny rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock. It was almost ten. When he was a teen, he was out all hours of the night. Now he felt old. Eight o'clock was when he started fizzing out.

It seemed his team was in the same boat. The barbecue at Steve's had gone from a loud and laughing group to a nearly snoring group. Chin was dead on a towel on the grass in the backyard, Steve was nodding off in one of the Adirondacks, and Kono was the only one still functioning, having decided to go for a night swim.

Well, Kono and Grace were both still more lively than the men.

"Danno!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Give your old man a break, huh? It's been a long week," he said as he trudged into the living room of his partner's house.

"Sorry. But I wanted to show you something," Grace said. She scooched over and patted the cushion next to her. "Here, watch this."

A YouTube video. Unsurprising. He was halfway considering some kind of intervention with how far down the rabbit hole his daughter had gone.

"This isn't–"

"No, it's not. This is a blooper reel," she said. "Just watch."

He was no stranger to watching hockey fights on YouTube late at night or when he was stuck on a case. This particular blooper compilation seemed to be composed of dragons screwing up various things. Some were obviously on the sets of big budget movies, others were shot with handheld cameras or phones and deserved a spot on _America's Funniest Home Videos_.

Grace paused it.

"Now, watch this one closely."

"Yes, ma'am."

The video rolled again. It looked like an ad. Shots of sunny beaches, tourists in bikinis, fancy hotels, and the like cycled by with tropical music playing. It held on a shot of turquoise waves rolling onto the sandy shore. Then, in the distance about thirty feet offshore, a Wyvern came sailing in at high speed. Their feet hit the water and they somersaulted head over tail like a skipping stone before sinking.

He exhaled as the Wyvern popped up like a duck unharmed.

"Did you see who that was?"

"Huh?" He looked down at Grace.

"Danno. Look closely," she said, and replayed it.

A smirk cracked his face as he took in the details of the Wyvern instead of the spectacle as a whole. Royal purple and golden yellow scales shimmered in the sunlight.

"Isn't that Eric's girlfriend?" she asked.

"It looks like a dead ringer, Monkey," he said. He wondered if his nephew had seen Jessa's cameo in that ad.

* * *

 **Next week on "Dragons", Steve prepares to make a journey.**

 **Artwork on the art page of the Earl sibling actors!**

 **Alright guys, next week will be the last chapter for a while. I won't be posting again after October 1st until the first week of November. Never fear, I've got stuff planned and will return after my journey to the land of the good chocolate. I mean, the UK. ;)**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


	127. Fact 112

**Last chapter for a month. Enjoy!**

 **Shout out to Phoebe Miller for beta reading!**

* * *

 **Fact #112: If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.**

 **Season: Late Season 4**

Steve wasn't too thick to realize that his partner was right about him. He often made cases too personal. If a SEAL or if a young son was involved, he took it upon himself to get justice no matter what, often to his partner's chagrin. Not that Danny was above doing the same when kids were involved.

And in this particular instance, Steve felt that he was justified in making it personal. It had been personal since the start.

"You're quite silent today, Commander."

"Just thinking how nice it'll be to finally get you off my island," Steve said.

Wo Fat only smirked at him.

It had been a year since their last face-off. Between now and then the burns had healed to impressive scars, leaving half of his face a mangled mess of flesh and rendering his one eye milky. Standing tall in human form in his transport cage in the belly of the plane, he'd lost none of his intimidation.

But Steve knew he held the upper hand now. Wo Fat's empire had crumbled. He was going away for the rest of his life, to be forgotten while the rest of the world moved on.

"I'm surprised you would leave your precious island behind to escort me across the ocean," Wo Fat said.

Steve didn't rise to the bait. He was sure Wo Fat had nothing planned to happen on the island and would be more likely to put forth resources in an escape overseas or on the mainland.

"Alright, let's get in the air before I change my mind."

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and watched Wo Fat's calculated and controlled expression as Danny boarded into the cargo bay of the plane. While he and Wo Fat had more history together, Danny was the one that had nearly killed him.

"Detective," Wo Fat greeted.

Danny eyed him. "That orange jumpsuit looks good on you, babe. Hope you like it, because it's the only thing you'll get to wear for the next several decades."

Wo Fat said nothing.

Steve gestured for Danny to follow him to the jump seats further inside the plane. From there they could keep an eye on their prisoner yet maintain a certain comfortable distance from him.

"Have you two been having an epic hero versus villain dialogue while you were waiting?" Danny asked.

"No." Steve sat heavily in a seat.

"Huh. Would've figured he would've tried to pull one last card out of his sleeve or done a big reveal on you or something."

"A big reveal?" Steve cracked a grin.

"Yeah. 'No, Commander, I am your father' or 'Would you treat your brother this way, Commander? Because I am your half or step or whatever brother'."

Steve shook his head. "That was a horrible impersonation. Don't do it again."

Danny leaned back and crossed an ankle over his knee. "You ready to lock him up and throw the key away? Finally end this thing?"

"More than you know."

With the high threat level Wo Fat presented, both as a crime lord and as a dragon, he wasn't going to the Ranch or the Farm, but rather a maximum security prison for dragons in Colorado. While the other two could handle big, powerful, wild dragons, this one was designed to keep those with resources from finagling their way to freedom. Other agencies like the FBI kept some of their top criminals there, as well.

Steve had used his clearance to check and triple check the status of the prison and the guards. It was tight. Supposedly inescapable. Those facts only eased his tension somewhat. He'd only be truly at ease when Wo Fat was in the ground.

"Hey," he said.

Danny looked over at him. "Hmm?"

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Partners have each other's backs. Plus, I can't let you do a solo mission. Knowing you, something would explode and I'd get a call and have to fly out to save you, anyway."

"Nah. That's not true."

"It's true, and you know it. This way I'm already here and don't have to pay airfare when it hits the fan. You're welcome."

Steve smiled. There was no one he'd rather have at his side, no matter how much ranting and hand waving was involved.

* * *

 **"Dragons" will return in November with mainland road trip adventures, an interesting encounter in the wilderness, and a showdown with an old enemy.**

 **I'm off to England this weekend! I'll resume posting the first week of November if all goes according to plan. Thank you all for reading, reviewing, faving, and following!**


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